


Wanted

by DNACat



Category: Heathers (1988), Heathers: The Musical - Murphy & O'Keefe
Genre: #gay, And Veronica's confused af, Anything new there?, But I dunno :/, Chandler's A Bitch, Chansaw, Currently rated T, Did I say #gay?, F/F, I meant #pray, Jock!Veronica, McNamara's a sweetheart, McNamayer, Might change, People asked me to remove the JD/Veronica tag so, Period-Typical Homophobia, Period-Typical Sexism, Veronica is confused, Warnings May Change
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-03-22
Updated: 2017-07-06
Packaged: 2018-10-09 07:33:07
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 10
Words: 30,065
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10407054
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DNACat/pseuds/DNACat
Summary: A Heathers AU Fic - Veronica is the only female football player in all of Westberg, but that doesn't mean she's particularly liked for it. One day in the changing rooms, she meets the Heathers. Her life looks to be set on a path of chaos, but red and yellow go well with blue.





	1. Changing Rooms

**Author's Note:**

> Please Note:
> 
> Veronica is going to experience feelings for both McNamara and Chandler. Some might get distressed if I at some point have her two-timing. Understand it will not even be, 'two-timing', but rather Chandler and McNamara getting jealous.

**Wanted**

**Heathers AU fic,**

**In which Veronica is a jock and super gay**

**And JD is jelly**

Veronica chucked the ball all the way across the football field, watching Kurt leap up and catch it. He whooped as he tossed it onto the ground, yelling and cheering.

“Kurt! Kurt! Kurt!” Ram chanted, but a few others managed to get her name slipped in there. She was becoming well known amongst the footballers, and for once wasn’t just the, ‘dyke’ who managed to join the football team. She smiled as she walked over to join the chanting.

“Nice throw.” One of the sophomores – the water boy – complimented her, flashing her a forced, charming smile. She rolled her eyes but took her water and chugged.

“What is Westerberg going to do to the Razorbacks?!” Kurt yelled over the chanting, fist-pumping the air with the ball as Ram squealed like a child.

“Gonna make ‘im go, wee! Wee! Wee! Wee!” Ram squealed, making a pig-noise and dry-humpign the air as the whole team laughed. Veronica laughed as well, rolling her eyes.

She raised her water-bottle into the air and crowed out, “To Westerberg!”

Everyone else followed along, Ram and Kurt the only ones with beer instead of water, and all chanted the school anthem in a horrific manor, “Heyo Westerberg, tell me what’s that sound? Here comes Westerberg, comin’ to put you in the ground!”

“Go, go Westerberg, give a great big _yell_!” All the football team made a loud, ‘hoo!’ noise at that, “Westerberg will knock you out and send you straight to hell!” Kurt threw the football to the floor, everyone roaring with hype and excitement.

“Westerberg! Westerberg! Westerberg!” Ram and Veronica managed to be heard over the cheering crowds of footballers. Veronica laughed with the team as she was given the ball. Having the best throwing-arm on the team, she readied herself, aiming right between the posts and throwing.

It whistled over the post and everyone let out whoops and she was clapped on the back.

“To Kurt, Ram and Veronica! The best footballers, Westerberg has _ever_ seen!” One of the younger players managed to pipe up, Veronica surprised Ram and Kurt let a _word_ get out of the youngster’s mouth.

“To Kurt!” Hey! “To Ram!” Hey! “To Veronica!” She blushed but made a slight, ‘Hey!’ sound along with the rest of the team.

Veronica threw her fist into the air and the whole team made one last Viking-call sound before all beginning to stride off the pitch together.

“ _So_ , Veronica. How’d you do it?” Ram asked, an arm slung over her shoulder. The guys had gotten comfortable over the high-school years with treating Veronica like a guy, and often gave her claps on the back or put their arms around her shoulders in a nonchalant and non-flirtatious way.

“Do what?” Veronica asked, shoving her hands into the pockets of her Westerberg letterman.

“Get onto the team,” Ram had taken a swig of beer, and already his words were slurred slightly, “Like, it’s not like Coach isn’t biased.”

“It took a lot of convincing,” She saw the look in his eye, “Oh come off it, Ram! Not that.”

“Then what?” Ram asked again, taking another swig and blubbering out, “to Westerberg!”

“Well coach put me through some of the most difficult trials I’ve ever seen.” Veronica flexed her arm slightly as she remembered coming home aching every day from the trials. Her legs would be shaking, her arms sore and her face slick with sweat, “Ever wonder how I got such a good throwing arm?” Ram nodded, “Well it’s because coach made me throw the football every day, to see if I improved at all.”

“Well what about the other coaches when they first saw you on the _guys_ team?” Ram brought up the one-time Westerberg had first played the Razorbacks. They had seen Veronica and _laughed_. Laughed so hard they didn’t see when she hurled it up the pitch straight into Kurt’s hands on the touch-down line.

“They shut up soon after I throw.” Veronica smiled innocently, “They’re a bunch of sexist-pigs.”

“Well know,” Kurt slurred from beside her, “That we’ll be there to thump any fuckos on the head.”

“I think I can protect myself, but thanks.” Veronica smiled. For such huge-dicks, Kurt and Ram could be nice when they wanted to be. They mostly put on the façade of, ‘fuck y’all’ to intimidate freshmen and any jock who challenges them.

“No problem, Ron.” Ram chugged the last bit of beer before unscrewing the cap, “Hey, I saved you a bit. I know you don’t like this stuff, but this tiny sip isn’t going to get you drunk.” Kurt gave him an odd look, “Jesus Kurt, I unscrewed the cap, and how old are we, six?”

“Yeah but she’s a _girl_.” Veronica rolled her eyes at Kurt’s comment.

“Like he said, he unscrewed the cap. It’s not like our lips would touch the same place.” She took the bottle and drank the remainders of the beer quickly. It burned her throat, but soon rested blissfully in her stomach. She felt a bit merrier and light, but not, ‘drunk,’ not even, ‘tipsy’.

“Well, we’re going to prove to the Razorbacks that gender doesn’t matter or some shit like that.” Kurt raised his fists into the air and let out a flimsy, “Whoo!”

“Whoo!” Veronica imitated him.

“Shut up, I tried, okay?” Kurt grumbled, “anyway, I’m gonna go hit the showers.” He stumbled through the door, yelling, “Bye!”

“Bye Ron!” Ram called over his shoulder as he stumbled in after Kurt.

Veronica smiled a bit before pushing into the girl’s changing rooms. It was relatively empty, one or two runners who had taken a quick jog around the pitch.

However, today, there were three new visitors. The Heathers.

“Are you _sure_ Fleming won’t check her?” A tiny, meek voice squeaked.

“Yes, Heather.” A much more firm and confident voice replied, “I looked at her schedule and she was on History.”

Veronica rolled her eyes. The Heathers were bunking off class, not even bothering to get a hall-pass. Surely Chandler knew _someone_ in the forging industry?

She snickered, if only she knew her. Not only was Veronica the, ‘best-female player on the football team,’ but she was also the, ‘best forger in the school.’ The Heathers had probably _heard_ of her, but she had never been approached.

“Your schedule is never right.” An envious voice replied.

“Shut _up_ Heather!”

Veronica laughed a bit and so did the two joggers. Suddenly there was the slam of a stall-door, and out strode Chandler, McNamara and Duke tailing after her.

“Which one of you hoes laughed?” Chandler snapped at the three of them, glaring.

Veronica cocked an eyebrow but said nothing, just continued to change into a casual t-shirt and out of her sweaty football jersey.

“Which one of you _laughed_ or all of your reputations will be,” Chandler clicked her fingers menacingly, “Gone.”

The two joggers looked ready to piss themselves so Veronica stood forward. She had a casual blue t-shirt on along with black tracksuit bottoms. (Sweatpants for y’all Americans.)

Heather Chandler looked her up and down before settling on her face. Chandler was only an inch smaller, barely even, ‘smaller’. Her eyes were a mercury-grey, and shone in the light. Her lipstick was – as expected – red, and so were her nails. Her hair was like a mane, a perfected bushy golden mane. She was undeniably hot.

Heather McNamara was on the smaller side. She wore a bow instead of a scrunchie like her two companions, and she seemed much more timid and meek. She wore heels to try and make herself taller, but while she was able to keep perfect balance, they failed miserably to make her at even shoulder height with _Duke_. She had a weak, failed smile and it twinkled in the light.

Duke was almost as tall as Heather, but wasn’t quite past her cheeks. She had long, bushy-brown hair and had chocolate-brown eyes, darker than Veronica’s cinnamon-brown. She was half-Asian and had a look of envy on her face. She was sneering at Veronica, rolling her eyes.

Veronica didn’t realize she was staring at them until Chandler spoke,

“Well, are you going to continue eye-fucking us or are you going to speak?” Chandler snarled at her through bared teeth, “Fucking dykes.”

“ _I_ laughed, if you must know oh holy queen.” Veronica snapped back at her, seeing Heather’s eyes gleam with surprise. Veronica guessed she was rarely talked back to.

“So some dyke, female-jock laughed at _me_?” Heather Chandler said after a moment’s hesitation.

“Wait, isn’t that _Veronica_?” Heather McNamara piped up before Duke could, making the green-girl scowl. Chandler looked at her and back at Veronica, eyebrow cocked. Veronica smirked. It was good and bad to hear that even the _Heathers_ knew who she was.

“Oh, a feminist as well.” Duke insulted, but quickly her toe was stood on by a pointy-heel.

“Shut _up_ Heather!” Chandler growled at her before turning back to Veronica, “How’d you do it?”

“Do what?” Veronica angled her head slightly.

“Get on the football team.” Heather Chandler indicated to her lettermen which was neatly folded on top of her football bag.

“Jesus, you’re like everyone other fucko in the school.” Veronica rolled her eyes, making Heather Chandler scowl at her, “I got on because I proved I could play. Just like every other girl could if they tried hard enough.”

“But surely you’ve been given sexist-slurs.” McNamara’s eyes gleamed with interest.

“Of course. The Razorbacks called me a, ‘slut looking for free fucks’ when I first stepped on the pitch,” Veronica laughed at the memory, “They shut their mouths when they saw me chuck the ball up the pitch and straight into Kurt’s hand.” She pretended to toss a ball and whisper-yelled, “Touch-down!”

Heather Chandler cocked an eyebrow, “So do you use the footballers as fuck-toys?”

“No!” Veronica gagged at the idea of kissing any of her team-mates. She had gotten relatively close to most of them, and while there were still a few who perved on her, most of them respected her personal-space and even Ram and Kurt only jokingly-flirted with her.

“They’re like the brothers I’ve never had.” Veronica explained softly.

“Incest is wincest.” Heather Duke teased.

“SHUT _UP_ HEATHER.”

“Sorry Heather!”

“So, Veronica,” Heather Chandler said, stalking up towards her, “Footballer, feminist and forger. Quite a combination,” Veronica felt a hand run up her arm and tilt her chin upwards, “Strange, I’ve never heard of you until now, I’d figure I’d spot someone right away if they had these talents.” Heather Chandler whispered something after, though Veronica guessed she wasn’t meant to hear it, “Or someone with such a great jawline and face.”

Veronica blushed a bit, wincing as Heather Chandler grabbed her collar and jerked her forward, “And you know,” Heather Chandler paused, free hand brushing Veronica’s cheek, “You know, this could be beautiful.” A thumb ran over her lips, “Mascara, maybe some lip gloss. And we’re on our way, get this girl some blush! And Heather I need your brush, let’s make her beautiful.” The other two Heathers glanced at each-other with a, ‘wtf?’ expression before rushing back into the stall.

Heather Chandler smirked, Veronica seeing the two joggers looking completely confused. Why had she ever stepped forward in the first place?

“Okay?” Heather Chandler said.

This was it! Her time to say no, her shot to escape out of the changing rooms and return to a normal civilian with a reputation of being known for having a great throwing-and-writing arm. However, Heather Chandler’s eyes bored into her own, and she found herself getting lost in pools of silver. They seemed to go on forever, and who knew what secrets Chandler was hiding, just waiting for someone to spill them to. Someone who would hold her close, murmur to her constantly that they love her, and that she would return said favours to.

Somewhere in Veronica’s barely tipsy-mind she wanted to be that person.

“Okay.” Veronica barely muttered out the word, seeing Chandler’s lips instantly curl into a smile.

“Don’t worry, you won’t be unbelievably ‘girly’. Just hot.” Chandler cooed to her gently before letting her go and going in to find some new clothes.

A few minutes later, Veronica faced herself in the mirror, beaming. She had some dark-blue lipstick on, and her hair had been curled and bushed. She had barely any noticeable blush, but it was still there.

Since she was the destined, ‘masculine Heather’ the Heathers had decided to give her more masculine clothes. She had been gifted a dark-blue leather jacket, and a black shirt that complimented it beautifully. She had a pair of jeans on and she looked like a complete badass.

She was beautiful.

But when she turned back to the Heathers and for a moment was threatened to be pulled into Heather Chandler’s grey-eyes once more, she felt chaos was about to ensue.

 


	2. Reputations and Creeps

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So happy that this got so much positive feedback.

It had been about three weeks since Veronica had become friends with the Heathers. She had been given a _huge_ reputation boost, and now everyone cowered before her like she was some form of _goddess_. Guys were coming to her – no matter how much she would reject them – left, right and centre and by now it was only the football team that hadn’t asked her out. Her life had taken a huge turn, and all because one day she was given a blue leather-jacket, scrunchie and lipstick. What was the right word to describe this change?

Crazy.

Duke began to become more and more soft with her, though still remained a massive bitch. McNamara hadn’t changed much, which was a good thing because she was an innocent teenager dragged into the popular life because of her _name_. Heather Chandler . . . Jesus, Heather Chandler was just _crazy_. Dragging Veronica to party after party, offering Veronica to be able to hide out at her house, and forcing Veronica to sleep on the couch. The Mythic bitch, despite all her bitchiness, was beginning to slowly make Veronica fall in love with her.

Whether that was good thing or not, was still to be seen.

Veronica began to be known was more than, ‘the football-forger’, but rather the, ‘Football-forger Heather.’ Which was new and strange to hear. For long she had been used to laying-low, making sure to stay off the radar as to avoid personal attacks on her self-confidence. But now she had no choice but to be in the public-eye. The Newspaper would come to her first to interview her on recent drama, no matter if she was involved or not.

The Newspaper had helped in her reputation boost. When the Heathers had invited her in, Heather Chandler bribed the head reporter into sneaking in a small article about the new Champion (sometimes it made Veronica laugh, how medieval Chandler was. She called Heather McNamara, ‘the princess’, Heather Duke, ‘The Noble’, And Veronica, ‘The Champion.’ She was the Demon Queen.)

The article had wrote about Veronica’s many feats in football and forgery, and also her many marks against gender stereo-types. Her miraculous bolt down the Football pitch was discussed, and many of her team-mates had been interviewed.

She cringed at a few of them,

‘Oh yeah,’ Says Ram Sweeney, captain of the football team, ‘She’s a great player, pretty hot if I do say so. But she’s like a sister. A really cool, hot sister.’

‘I have to admit, when I saw her walk onto the pitch for training I laughed! But now, I know I’d get a football flying at my face if I did so. Because my god, her accuracy is on point.’ Says Kurt, Quarterback for the Football Team, ‘Brilliant player!’

Her countless forgery-feats were not written in the Newspaper, but rather spread around the school. The reporters knew it would probably be a foul-move to tell the teachers – who bothered to read the papers – about Veronica’s forgery-skills, so instead they settled for passing it on to gossipers, and from there to the last Freshmen.

Veronica sighed as she buried the copy of the newspaper into her bag. This whole, ‘you’re a Heather now!’ thing had it’s pros and cons. Sometimes the cons outweighed the pros, sometimes the pros outweighed the cons. She was often called a, ‘half-breed Heather’ as if the Heathers was some kind of animal and she was a mixture of a Veronica and a Heather. Veronica suddenly flinched at the thought and blushed.

That wasn’t a very nice thing to think. A half Veronica half Heather. She was sure Kurt and Ram would wink at her and do finger-guns if she said that out loud.

Veronica sighed and rubbed the back of her neck with her hand. Since she had joined the Heathers she got questions every day from Kurt and Ram such as:

“Fucked Heather Chandler yet?”

“Fucked Heather McNamara yet?”

“Fucked Heather Duke yet?”

“They’re all really good fucks aren’t they?”

Veronica understood that she was a masculine woman, and that Kurt and Ram were the only ones who knew she took a liking for women, but sometimes other team-mates would give them weird looks. Veronica didn’t want to discuss what happened (or in this case _didn’t_ happen) in her bedroom! Was this what guys talked about?

Ram and Kurt made too many assumptions in Veronica’s opinion. They automatically presumed that Veronica was only with the Heathers because she wanted to get in their pants – which made Veronica both red and green at the same time – and not at all because she had it border-line forced down her throat. Veronica hated these assumptions. She wasn’t some dyke trying to get some free fucks.

However, the worst part of being the new, ‘popular kid’ was the other dykes.

Veronica had lost count of how many blonds had come up to her, flirting with her, trying to get a reputation boost. Veronica had had multiple women approach her, purring into her ear about, ‘how hot’ she was. Sometimes a sick side of Veronica came out. A side that became animalistic and went after the blonds in her head. She knew she had been much more masculine than other girls from the age of nine, but never would she have expected to see a side like this.

Veronica hated this side so much, because it was that desperate jock inside of her, thinking it deserved a fuck every day for it’s amazing talents. It was the worst side of her she had ever seen.

A side that allowed itself to be tugged along by the suitors, and left their bed empty the next morning. A side that trailed it’s eyes up and down slender and curved bodies. A side that wanted- shit, no. Not that part of that side. That . . . that could be explained another day.

Veronica sighed as she leaned back against her locker, rubbing her palms into her eyes. She groaned a bit, before leaning back, one foot pressed against the locker, hands in her pockets and head cast to stare down the hallway. People passed by, all heading to classes or study-hall.

She was going to take a break to relax for a moment. Since her gym teacher had fallen ill, she got a free-lesson. She saw a few people who were also in her class walking by, all on the way to the entrance of school, study-hall or the gym to work-out anyway. She was going to stand in the hall and think about deep-shit.

Or so, she had hoped.

“Veronica!” She looked away from a classroom door she had been staring at absentmindedly to see Heather Duke standing there, cladded in her usual green.

“Yes, Duke?” Veronica asked, cocking an eyebrow.

Duke put her hands on her hips and tilted her upper-body to the side slightly, “Chandler says haul ass to the lunch-table _pronto_.”

“What does the Demon Queen want now?” Veronica sighed, not budging from the locker. Duke scoffed and rolled her eyes, giving Veronica a disbelieving look after. Veronica met her glare equally, “The ‘Demon Queen’ just wants you, she didn’t say why.” Duke strolled over, leaning in beside her to whisper, “I though you’d be happy. The person you probably get off to ‘wants’ you.”

“Shut your fucking mouth _Heather_.” Veronica hissed back at her through gritted teeth.

“Only speaking the truth,” Duke snorted at her, “ _Dyke_.”

“Fuck you.” Veronica called after her. When she said, ‘Duke had become softer’ she meant, Duke didn’t call her fat, nerdy or a fucking loser anymore. She wasn’t even, ‘nice’ by any means, she had just improved since when Veronica had first met her. The bitch was a wannabe prick, keening for Heather Chandler’s position as top-dog.

“You wish!” Duke teased lightly, stopping, “Now come!”

Veronica sighed and walked after Duke, hands still in her pockets. She had her lower lip sticking out a bit in a pout, and her shoulders were hunched. Duke looked over her shoulder, and Veronica saw one of those rare moments where her dark-brown eyes softened, “Listen, even if you are a fucking dyke, I don’t care if you’re a dyke.” Duke peered at her closely, “And lose the frown, it ruins you face.”

Veronica scowled a bit at the insult, but forced a smile, “ _Better_?”

“Better.” Heather Duke replied innocently, sneering at her all the same.

Veronica crossed her arms, sniffing in bitterness.

*~*

Veronica stood over the ‘Heathers table,’ eyebrow cocked and hands still in her pockets, “Yes?”

“Veronica.” Chandler greeted, her voice venomously-sweet, “Can you do a little, ‘job’ for me?”

“What ‘job.’?” Veronica asked, but she already knew it was either going to be threatening someone, beating someone up or fetching something. Hopefully the last one. Or maybe even forging. Yeah, forging would probably be better.

McNamara sat across from Heather Chandler, looking extremely uncomfortable. Veronica glanced across the lunchroom really quickly and spotted the reason why. The janitor’s son – who was a college dropout – was staring at Heather McNamara, almost drooling. He wasn’t even mopping anymore, just leaning on the mop and staring at McNamara awestruck.

“Tell that creep to stop watching McNamara,” Chandler smiled sickeningly sweetly, “But that won’t make him stop. The idiot is half-deaf. Tell him to stop staring at _your girlfriend_.”

“Heather!” McNamara blushed the same shade of red as Chandler’s trademark scrunchie

“What? Do you want that creep to keep looking at you?” Chandler smirked at McNamara’s flustered face.

“But what if someone overhears?” Veronica asked curiously, “I’d be dead meat.” She wasn’t exactly, ‘objecting’ and she heard Duke chuckle a bit. She shot a glare over her shoulder, making Duke stop just before she could flick her tongue between her index and middle-finger.

“If they do, you just beat the shit out of them.” Chandler’s finger drew down her arm, making her flush and sputter a bit, “You aren’t saying no are you?” Chandler looked up at her with those wonderful grey eyes, and Veronica couldn’t say no.

Not to those eyes.

“I’ll do it.” Veronica sighed, rolling her eyes and huffing a bit, “But you owe me a free party-skip.”

“Fine.” Chandler shrugged, resting her chin in her right-hands palm, “I don’t see anything wrong with that.”

McNamara was still blushing and glaring daggers at Chandler who just smirked and winked at her. McNamara growled under her breath, and crossed her arms in defiance.

“I’m going to go get the creep to stop.” Veronica said awkwardly, before turning on her heel and marching off.

She just managed to hear Chandler say teasingly to McNamara, “Don’t act like you aren’t happy she’s faking to be your girlfriend.” To which McNamara replied:

“Yeah well at least I don’t flirt with her on the go.”

There was no reply from Chandler, and only laughter from Duke after that.

Veronica blushed but strode up to the creep, who looked her up and down and frowned, cocking an eyebrow.

The cafeteria fell quiet, everybody watching the confrontation. _Shit_. They were going to hear. And Chandler had _known_ it. She _knew_ that the cafeteria would watch, as a creep was confronted by a popular kid. And she had no choice. The creep _would_ keep watching McNamara if she didn’t add in the, ‘my girlfriend’ part. And all the school was going to hear it.

 _Fuck_.

Veronica took a deep breath as the creep spoke, “What?”

“You need to stop staring at her.”

“You mean the hottie? Why not? She doesn’t seem to mind.” The creep winked at McNamara who gagged.

“Well _I do_ , because . . .” Veronica heard Chandler chucking darkly in the background, knowing she had won, “Because she’s my girlfriend.”

Everyone in the cafeteria gasped. Even if there were few people due to classes being on, the word would get around that McNamara and Veronica Sawyer were dating. And eventually it would turn into, ‘they secretly fuck behind the school!’ and everyone knew it.

The creep’s eyes widened, “Oh-oh! She’s . . . oh, okay. Um, s-sorry?” He stuttered out, backing into the darkness, and staring at the ground awkwardly, “Um, sorry.” He repeated once more before he began to mop again.

Veronica Sawyer nodded and looked at the cafeteria. McNamara was blood-red, fists balled up by her sides. Chandler was laughing and . . . was that a hint of _jealousy_ in her eyes? Duke was almost crying with laughter at the sight of McNamara’s face.

Veronica blushed as she scurried back to her seat, but Duke grabbed her collar before she could seat herself beside Chandler, “Sit beside your ‘girlfriend’ Veronica.”

Veronica grunted as she was chucked backwards, and she steadied herself before she could trip. She glared at Duke who gave her a sweet, innocent smile that poisoned her with anger. She crossed her arms and sat down beside Heather McNamara. The whole cafeteria paused, waiting for something.

Nothing came, but Veronica smiled at McNamara who flushed and batted her eyelashes. They probably looked stupid, and Veronica swore Chandler gritted her teeth, but Veronica didn’t care.

*~*

Veronica was on her way out of school. She had survived another day of hell, even if she and McNamara were being given very inappropriate hand gestures if they walked together. They weren’t going to get bullied, Veronica knew that much, but they were going to get teased non-stop for two weeks minimum.

She pushed past a group of people and saw the doors that led to her freedom. She paced forward a bit, almost lunging down the hall. She shouldered past more nerds and dorks, and finally burst into the open, taking in the freedom. School was over, none of her homework was due tomorrow and she had the evening free! Yes!

Veronica thought it couldn’t get any better as she swaggered down the footpath leading out of the school.

_However,_

As she paused a narrow alley, a hand grabbed her shoulder.

“What the fu-” Veronica was cut off by a hand pressed over her mouth.

“Quiet.” She was pressed closer to the wall as blue eyes fluttered closed and she felt a mouth pressed against her own.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter and another certain chapter coming up are going to confuse you guys so much.
> 
> And probably gonna 'cause a Chansaw vs McNamamayer war somewhere ._. 
> 
> (Also this was super rushed plz forgive me)


	3. Alleys and Broken-Hearts

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Veronica is jumped in an alleyway and forgets about it quickly with a pillow-fight and sex jokes.

**Chapter Three**

**Alleys and Broken Hearts**

Veronica let out a, ‘mmf!’ again the lips of the other person as she was aggressively pinned against the wall of the alley. Her eyes were wide, but were taking in nothing she was seeing. It was as if they were determined to be closed. Veronica felt a hand grab her collar and ball it into their fist, tugging her closer, and the person emitting a whine of frustration at her lack of reciprocation.

Veronica suddenly melted again the person, kissing back twice as aggressively. The person keened against her, and suddenly, ‘that side’ kicked in. She grabbed the small of the person’s back and lunged forward, pinning them to the opposite wall. The person gasped against her, and she took that opportunity to, ‘slide in.’

Veronica began to, 'explore' this other person, feeling them whimper against her lips as she did so. She went gently, as to not pressure them if they were new to this whole make-out thing. However, as the person reciprocated with their own tongue, she knew this wasn't their first time making out. The person was eager, sure, but talented. Not even the slightest bit of hesitation

Veronica ran her hair through the others person hair, tugging at the back before pulling the person closer after a yelp of surprise. Veronica felt the person quiver at the slightest brush of fingers, squirming under her touch.

Veronica chuckled a bit, pulling away and feeling the person try desperately to keen and whimper for more attention, “Desperate?” She cooed gently, “Squirming under the slightest _brush_ of my fingers.” She ran her finger over the person’s arm, who shivered and let out a noise of relief.

Veronica captured their lips against her own once more, feeling their hands wrap around her neck. The person tugged her closer than humanely possible.

Veronica smirked into the kiss. She didn’t think she was capable of a smirk this cruel. But alas, she was. Veronica pulled away, beginning to kiss down the person’s jawline and making her way towards their throat.

“Shit, Veronica~” The person cooed and Veronica paused.

Where had she heard that voice before? That voice so innocent and care-free, honey-sweet and silk-soft? She opened her eyes slightly and took in the person’s features. Their eyes had shot wide open, revealing a crystal-shade of blue. They had long blond hair, so another girl by the looks it. Their face was dappled by freckled. Their eyes met hers and the figure smiled against the kiss.

However, Veronica didn’t expect _them_. She pulled back, sputtering and staring at the person in horror.

“What?” The person grumbled, chasing after her lips hungrily, nipping at them.

Veronica stared at them through huge, brown eyes. Were they really that care-free? Didn’t they care that if they school heard about this, they’d be dead meat?

Was Heather McNamara really that innocent?

Veronica pulled away, pushing herself up against the opposite wall as if Heather was some form of foreign disease that was unheard of. Heather McNamara gave her this _wounded_ look, eyes glimmering with pain and embarrassment, “T-Too soon?” She stuttered out nervously, trying to crack her signature child-smile. Let’s just say it looked like she had a cactus up her ass and she was told to smile.

“I just . . .” Veronica ran her hand through her hair, ignoring the still-hungry look Heather gave her, “I didn’t expect this – not so quickly.”

“So you _did_ see it coming?” Heather McNamara smirked at her, making Veronica blush. She didn’t think innocent ol’ Heather Mac was capable of smirking, not until now. Nor did she think Heather McNamara was capable of pulling people into dark alleyways and making out with them.

Heather McNamara; breaking Heather Mac stereotypes every day!

“I-what-pssh-no!” Veronica waved her off with a hand, “Just . . .” She let out a deep, frustrated sigh, “I didn’t see it happening _three weeks after I met you_.” Veronica sighed, resting a hand on her head after it had made it’s third run through her hair. Heather McNamara flushed a bit, and bit her bottom lip, looking away her blue-eyes dark with embarrassment. Her palms pressed against the wall, and, ‘that side’ almost jumped at Heather McNamara’s helplessness. Veronica managed to contain herself, taking deep breaths.

“S-So you, you uh, you _do_ like me?” Veronica’s voice cracked about half-way through.

“Um, yeah.” Heather McNamara stammered out before letting out an exasperated sigh, “This was a stupid idea!” She exclaimed angrily at herself, “I _knew_ you wouldn’t like it.”

“No, it’s not that, it’s just . . .” Veronica trailed off, before taking a deep breath and continuing. She knew what she was going to say was either going to break McNamara’s heart, or give her hope. She just hoped it was the latter as she began to speak, “I think I need a while to figure out how I feel about things, y’know?” She shrugged, “I’ve just been jumped by one of my best friends in an alley, and I don’t know how to feel.”

“Oh-okay.” Heather said unsurely, looking a bit disappointed, but satisfied, “I-I get it. I probably sh-shouldn’t have just jumped you so fast, sorry.”

“No,” Veronica said quickly, knowing McNamara was belittling herself in her head, “That was the best first-kiss I could ask for, just, I just met you, and I-I . . .” She took a deep breath, inhaling through her nose sharply and, “I like two people, you and someone else, and I need a moment to think . . .”

“I-I was like that too, so if you need help, just give me a ring.” McNamara offered, forcing a weak smile that was so obviously fake. Veronica nodded slowly before turning and speed-walking towards the exit of the alley, hearing McNamara call after her, “Wait! You haven’t told me who the other person is!”

Veronica ignored her, turning the corner and striding by. Besides she couldn’t see her tussled hair, or her slightly smeared lipstick. All she could think about was Heather McNamara and the other little – okay _huge_ – crush she had, and how the fuck she was going to sort this out. She wasn’t a polygamist, she knew that much. The thought of being in a relationship with _two people_ disgusted her. Yet, she couldn’t help but feel affection for both.

She was so lost in thought, she didn’t see the creep sneering at her in the bushes, camera in hand stocked with images of her recent make-out session.

If only she knew . . .

~~~

Veronica sat in her bedroom, hands behind her head and legs crossed over as she stared at the ceiling. Her brown-eyes glinted with thoughts, and her brown hair was sprawled about behind her casually. Her thoughts were all conflicted, every new thought bringing something to the table that conflicted with another thought.

These thoughts? Were about Heather McNamara and her other, ‘crush.’ All the thoughts conflicting on what she should do. Should she try to move on, go to college and find some future-secretary of accountant and marry them, if only to ignore the urges for ‘them.’

Veronica let out a deep, frustrated sigh and slammed a blue-pillow down on her face, groaning into that so her mother didn’t get the wrong idea.

Why had she been cursed to know such ho- no that was weird. _Attractive_ girls? She had hoped to be able to get out of high-school without being in a relationship.

But alas, that is not the way things go. She twisted a lock of hair around her finger, thinking about the recent first-kiss. The way those pale-yellow lips had mashed so well against her own just made her blush. The way Heather had gasped at the slightest brush of her fingers made her heart skip a beat. The way she had grabbed back at Veronica hungrily made Veronica let out a sigh of rapture. She pressed the palms of her hands into her foreheads, letting out another groan. If anyone heard about this, she knew the ‘other crush’ would murder them both.

Veronica sat up, deciding to write in her diary. She knew it was the one place she could voice her worries, without having to worry about her father reading about it. Fortunately, she had been born with parents who understood privacy and wouldn’t _dream_ of reading diaries. Unfortunately, her father wasn’t the most accepting towards, ‘ _fucking dykes_.’ So there was little chance of her being able to come out. She would one day, of course, but she’d probably say it once she had a stable job and a house of her own. She didn’t want to be one of _‘those dykes’_ as they were called, that were seen sitting on the curb outside their house, weeping miserable.

“ _Dear Diary,_

_It’s only been about three weeks since I became friends with the Heathers. Well, actually the Heathers are more people who I work with, and our job is being popular and shit. Anyway, that’s beside the point. Today Heather McNamara_ kissed me. _Not in a peck on the lips, childhood crush way. A full on, “please make-out with me.” Way._ ” She sighed, she couldn’t phrased that better, but too late. She was writing in pen, “ _I’m really conflicted, because I’m going through, ‘that stage.’ Where I have a crush on_ two people _. And the other person would die if they found out I liked them._ ”

She took a deep breath through her nose, dumping her diary on her end-table before leaning back against the headboard.

She lay there for a few minutes, thinking about nothing other than the kiss and the other girl she had feelings for, and feeling awfully conflicted on how she should feel. One side of her was already keening to go to McNamara, and the other side leaning towards the other person, deciding, ‘we need to make-out with her to see who I like more.’ Veronica didn’t know who to listen to.

‘That side’ said make-out with the other person, and the normal side said give it a few days. ‘That side’ said, ‘bed McNamara.’ While her normal side insisted McNamara was an innocent person and, ‘how could you even consider bedding her?’

Veronica buried her face into the pillow, letting out a grunt as she thought of the situation. As her mind wandered, she let out a groan of disappointment. Couldn’t she-

“Stop groaning, it sounds like you’re being fucked.” She shot up, back pressed against the headboard as she saw Heather Chandler standing in her doorway.

“Heather?” Veronica cocked an eyebrow, trying to play it cool. Heather Chandler cocked a perfect-eyebrow up as well, a smirk playing at her lips.

“What? Were you getting off?” Chandler sneered at her, “Is that why you were groaning so loudly? Who, though? Some basic blond? Ginger? _Heather McNamara_?” Veronica’s pulse almost stopped and her heart thumped violently in her throat when Chandler continued, “Oh! Maybe even _me_?” When Veronica blushed Chandler laughed – no, laughed wasn’t the right word – _cackled_ , eyes shut and head tossed back, “I knew I was sexy, but the muscle, dyke of the group getting off to me.” Heather Chandler’s eyes locked with her own, grey and brown clashing, “ _Shocking_.”

“No, I wasn’t ‘getting off.’, is it so wrong to think about the moments you fucked up in life?” Veronica grumbled at Chandler, crossing her arms, and scowling at her.

“The getting-off thing is a better thought,” Chandler winked at her, making Veronica’s face hot with a blush, “If you know what I mean.”

“I’m not gay!” Veronica mimicked Chandler’s voice just as well as she could mimic the other girl’s writing.

“Fuck you.” Chandler scoffed at her, sticking her nose in the air, but Veronica saw the blush creeping onto her face.

“You wish.” Veronica teased casually. She was used to having sex-jokes cracked her way constantly, and so was Chandler, so that was their kind of teasing. And personally, Veronica didn’t see anything wrong with it, as long as you don’t take it seriously. Chandler’s head lowered, a bright-blush across her face and a sneer to accompany it.

“I’m sure some girls do,” Chandler checked her finger-nails, occasionally nibbling on them, something she couldn’t do around Duke or Ms. Fleming with yells of, ‘stop!’ soon after, “I wonder how many girls would love to lose their virginity to you. Or maybe take yours!” Chandler smirked at her, “besides, you haven’t fucked anyone, right?”

A blue-satin cushion hit Chandler’s face, before Chandler launched herself at Veronica, picking up a pillow and swinging it at Veronica. Veronica retaliated with a pull of Heather’s knee (as the red-girl was kneeling so she could take better aim) and watched her fall face forward onto the bed, letting out a completely uncharacteristic squeak. Veronica beat the back of her head ruthlessly with a pillow, hearing Chandler muttering out curses before she pushed herself back up. Chandler took a swing, hitting Veronica clean in the jaw with the pillow, making her stumble back, and her arms jar as they tried to hold her up on the floor.

Chandler cocked an eyebrow and smiled at Veronica’s position, leaning back, completely exposed. Veronica blushed a bright red, before launching herself upwards, grabbing Chandler in a head-lock and smacking the pillow against her face. Chandler struggled against her, arms pushing her arms away.

Veronica smirked as she grabbed Chandler’s hair, hearing the other girl hiss, “ _Don’t_! It took me forty minutes to get this right!” The girl hissed at Veronica, who only smiled and took the hair in her hands and tugged sharply.

“Should’ve thought about that before even suggesting I’d lose my virginity to some basic bitch.” Veronica almost purred against her ear, before tugging on her hair aggressively, seeing Chandler reel back with pain, hissing and glaring at her as the scrunchie came lower on the hair. Chandler got on her legs and awkwardly swung one, heel driving slightly into Veronica’s side.

Veronica let out a frustrated noise and let go of Chandler. Chandler smirked and kicked at her shin again, seeing Veronica hiss once more, teeth gritted angrily, “Well, well! The muscle does have an Achilles heel.” She smirked, eyes narrowing and eyebrows furrowing as she sneered.

“ _Fuck you_.” Veronica growled at her, picking up a pillow, but smiling as she smacked Chandler across the face. Chandler picked up a pillow and swung back, the two going back to the playful pillow-fight.

The fight went on for a good five minutes, before a winner became clear. Veronica was definitely winning, but after a few sly moves Chandler managed to have Veronica sprawled out on her back, pillow tossed aside and hair tussled. Chandler smirked, pinning her there by almost _straddling her_ , making Veronica blush furiously, “Do you surrender?” Chandler said to her, deadly quiet.

“You win, Chandler.” Veronica managed to say, finding herself getting lost in a pair of grey-eyes. Fuck, they were just _gorgeous_. Everything she ever wanted. An odd shade of grey, like mercury. Like a moon-shade of silver. And when they were happy and confident, _fuck_ , they were enchanting.

“I _always_ win.” Chandler whispered softly, before her head shot upwards. Veronica looked over her shoulder to see her mother standing in the doorway.

Her mother was holding a plate of innocent cookies and mugs of tea (for Chandler, who was a completely oddball) and hot-chocolate (Veronica.). She was wearing her typical mothers outfit, but had an amused, ‘oh teenagers!’ look in her eye. She was smiling coyly at the two of them, as Chandler was basically straddling her daughter. Unlike Veronica’s father, Veronica’s mother was fine with her daughter being interested in women rather than men. Veronica had only come out to her mother, and begged her to not tell her father until she was ready. Her mother had been wary at first, panicking Veronica might start getting picked on or she might start bringing girls home. But she accepted her after a week of awkwardness, and informed Mr. Walsh (Not Ms Fleming, that bitch was extreme religious.) to make sure her daughter as looked out for.

“Really, Veronica?” Her mother cooed gently, making Veronica blush, “I’m going to just leave these here.” She set the tray down on a locker Veronica, “If I come back and the tea and hot-chocolate is on the floor, god help you!” Her mother strode towards the door, “I’m going shopping, try not to let the neighbours hear you.”

Heather Chandler clambered off of Veronica, and for the first time, was completely lost for words. Veronica blushed, clutching the blankets in her hands, “She . . . she’s different to other mothers I’m sure.”

“She- she thought we were about to _fuck_.” Chandler suddenly started laughing, laughing heavily. Veronica smiled at this. Chandler’s laugh was adorable, especially when she was properly amused, “And was completely cool with it! Oh my god!” Chandler wiped tears from her eyes, almost crying with laughter, “That’s the best reaction I’ve ever had! Just, ‘don’t spill tea on the carpet, and make sure the neighbours don’t hear you.’.” Chandler cackled, falling back against the bed and giving up on hiding her tears of laughter.

Veronica began to laugh as well, before she too had managed to roll off the bed and was on the floor, roaring with laughter.

“Oh my god! Imagine her worries about what she would hear or see when she got back.” Heather Chandler began to mimic her voice, though her voice was much higher than Veronica’s making it difficult, “Ooo Heather!”

“Excuse me?” Veronica put on a seductive face, “ _You_ would be the one moaning _my_ name.” Chandler flushed a bit, but only sneered as Veronica went on, “Oh yeah! Veronica! Harder!”

“Want to find out?” Heather Chandler winked at Veronica who blushed the same shade as a tomato and a cherry mixed together.

“No.” Veronica shouted loudly, before covering her mouth.

“Oh sure, anyway, can we go shopping?” Heather Chandler asked, “An old friend wanted to go shopping for some disco coming up, and she says she’s been followed by this guy whenever she goes out to town. She’s scared he’ll . . . y’know, so I wanted to know if you’d be okay to body-guard us?”

“Sure, why not?” Veronica shrugged, “So who’s this, ‘old friend’ hmm?”

“Promise not to laugh?”

“Of course not. Besides you’d kill me if I did.”

“Okay . . . it’s Courtney.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> While most of you may not know, 'Courtney' she's a prep from the Heathers MOVIE (never mentioned in the musical.) Also, that may not seem big, but in this story it's gonna be.
> 
> And you can guess why :)


	4. Stories and Courtney

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay let's clear things up real quick:
> 
> Yes I did make sure Denmark was the first country to legalize gay marriage
> 
> This story takes place around the early 1990's if any songs were made after that, I'm sorry but I needed a song as quick as possible.
> 
> A, 'friginity' is when you haven't kissed (or as we call it in Ireland, 'met'.) anyone yet. 
> 
> A little bit of info for ye der :)

**Chapter Five:**

**Stories and Courtney**

Veronica’s jaw dropped, her eyes widened and her fists balled up, “Seriously, Heather?” She hissed at the red-clad girl through gritted teeth, “ _Courtney_?” Heather Chandler sighed as she continued, leaning back on her hands to let Veronica rant, “That bitch, that bitch tried to _ruin_ me! If it weren’t for-”

“Us.” Heather cut her off, smiling and putting her hand on her chest to indicate, ‘the Heathers.’

“Fine, you, then I wouldn’t be where I am right now!” Veronica let out an exasperated sigh, throwing her hands in the air, “She tried to expose me!”

“Yes, but that bitch is a prep-snobby nobody now.” Heather reminded her, forcing a smile, “Can’t you forgive her, for an hour?”

“No!” Veronica snapped at her angrily, crossing her arms, “Courtney’s a fuck, and she can go fuck herself. She’s a prick, who was a stick shoved up her ass constantly, she’s a homophobic piece of shit, and can’t spelling fucking, ‘to.’.” Veronica snarled through gritted teeth, looking Heather dead in the eye, “Do you even know what she tried to do to me?”

“No, actually,” Heather Chandler cocked an eyebrow in interest, her eyes suddenly, “I know it involved your sexuality, right?” Veronica nodded shyly, blushing slightly, “Well, go on!”

“One day, after school . . .”

_Flash-back to Freshmen Year_

_Veronica walked out of school, books hugged close to her chest and football hanging out of her zipper due to the fact it couldn’t fit in without a tiny bit of the zipper opened. She was pushed around roughly by some of the other teenagers trying to get through, and eventually toppled over._

_A voice shouted, “Hey!” and the crowds quickly dispersed, seeing someone on the floor and politely moving – for a change. A tall blond towered over Veronica, staring down at her, “You okay?” Courtney. Rich-ass, snobby Courtney._

_What did she want off of Veronica that she aggressively told everyone to move?_

_“Fine.” Veronica struggled to get up. Courtney extended a hand and she gratefully took it, hauling her up. Veronica grabbed the book that had fallen from her hands and pulled them up with her. Her gaze locked with Courtney’s, finding herself lost in those blue-eyes._

_Shit! She wasn’t a dyke was she? No, she couldn’t be! Her father would give her electro-shock therapy or conversion therapy. He would send her to church every week where she’d be belittled by the priest, or told she was sick. Her mother would try to stick up for her, try to make her father stop, but he would only shrug her off and tell her, “Chris, she’s sick. We need to help her. She is defying the word of the lord – our saviour, our king – and we must make sure she gets to heaven and not to hell.”_

_But Veronica found herself staring into Courtney’s eyes anyway. Courtney was level with her, one of the few girls who were, and her hair fell in a long, blond mane that was perfectly kept. It was bushy, and looked silky-soft._ Fucking gorgeous _._

_“Picture lasts longer,” Courtney smiled slightly, extending her hand, “Courtney Winston.”_

_“Veronica Sawyer.” Veronica gratefully shook her hand._

_Courtney cocked an eyebrow, “Veronica, hmm?” Courtney looked her up and down, “You’re very masculine, would’ve expected you to have nicknamed yourself, ‘Ron.’.”_

_“Nah,” Veronica shrugged. Most people reacted this way, seeing a girl in a denim-jacket and jeans, “I’m not like that.”_

_Courtney looked her up and down once more, and her eyes widened, as if an idea had struck her, “You’re not a_ dyke _are you?” Courtney’s eyes locked with hers, and Veronica felt some form of_ hunger _and to lock lips with Courtney, to almost ‘dominate’ her. Veronica blushed, and Courtney took it as embarrassment at such a silly question, “I’m silly, aren’t I? Of course you’re not a dyke!”_

_“Yeah, dykes disgust me, y’know? They’ll rot in hell.” Veronica said weakly, forcing a sinister smile._

_“Yeah,” Courtney nodded in agreement, smiling as well with a dark-glint in her eye, “Hey, can I add you to my contacts? You seem like a cool person.” Veronica eagerly gave Courtney her phone, and Courtney handed hers back. Veronica added her number a little slower, not wanting to seem like a, ‘dyke that’ll rot in hell.’_

_“Well Veronica,” Courtney handed back Veronica’s phone and took her own phone back, “See you around. Maybe we could hang-out sometime?”_

_“Yeah, I’d like that.” Veronica smiled as nonchalantly as possible, nodding eagerly. Courtney smiled, did slight finger-guns and walked away, into the crowds to where a few of her prep friends awaited her._

_Veronica couldn’t help but stare._

_A few weeks later_

_It had been almost three weeks since Veronica had become, ‘friends’ with Courtney, and her crush had grown enormously for the prep. Courtney could hypnotize her with a single swing of her hips, could have her drooling with a flash of a smile and could have her on her knees to bow to her with a single touch._

_The two sat in Veronica’s bedroom, Veronica leaning back on her bed, hands resting behind her head and legs up and crossed over. Courtney was texting somebody on her phone – Veronica just prayed it wasn’t a guy, especially with her plan._

_“What’s your least favourite country?” Courtney asked suddenly, and Veronica cocked an eyebrow. What a strange question._

_“Hmm . . . I don’t have one. Well I guess I wouldn’t visit Australia. Not because I hate the place, just too many spiders and crocs.” Veronica put on a slight Australian accent for, ‘crocs.’ Making Courtney laugh a bit. Oh that laugh! It made Veronica’s heart almost burst out of her chest._

_“Mine’s Denmark.” Courtney said after she had stopped laughing._

_“Why?” Veronica asked curiously. What had Denmark done to be hated? Veronica thought, and suddenly she realized why. Wow, Courtney was low._

_“They were the first country in the world to legalize gay-marriage.” Courtney wrinkled her nose, gagging at the idea, “Sickos.” She rolled her eyes, going back to texting. Veronica sat up, looking at Courtney. Courtney looked back at her, and Veronica gulped slightly._

_“What?” Courtney asked, and Veronica swore she was staring at Veronica’s lips. Shit, she almost couldn’t help herself._

_“Denmark isn’t a bad place, y’know.” Veronica quickly added, “I mean, I hate gays and all, but they did invent Lego.”_

_“Really?” Courtney cocked an eyebrow, looking Veronica straight in the eyes (sorry *gay in the eyes.), and Veronica took a shuddering breath, “Well aren’t you just the Brainiac.” Courtney smiled at her, making Veronica’s lips tug into a smile._

_Suddenly Veronica’s hand went to her cheek and she leaned in. Courtney froze over, eyes going bright before darkening. Veronica thought she was going to let it happen._

_There was an almighty, ‘slap!’ sound and Veronica felt her cheek burning and she quickly pulled away. Veronica reeled back and stumbled backwards, almost off the bed. Courtney looked at her, eyes wide and flaring with rage, “You_ are _a dyke!” Courtney shrieked and Veronica lunged forward, pressing a pillow to her mouth to muffle her shrieks._

_“Shut_ up, _Courtney!” Veronica hissed, looking over her shoulder, “You fuck, if my dad hears he’ll hang me on a fucking cross.”_

_“He needs to.” Courtney snarled at her, glaring at her from over the pillow, “You’re sick, and mentally-wounded.” Courtney leaned in and over the pillow, “And I’m going to tell the school.”_

_“But you’re my friend!” Veronica squeaked out meekly._

_“No, I’m friends with_ straight _Veronica.” Courtney got up and left, marching out of her house, as Veronica sat on her bedroom and cried._

_Flashback over_

“Holy shit.” Was all Heather Chandler could manage, staring at Veronica and brushing a single tear from her face, “You’re lucky we caught her with that nerd. She’s a bitch.” Heather Chandler lifted her face to hers, “Hey, I _really_ need you to protect us, okay?” She saw the look in Veronica’s face and quickly said, “You can bring anyone else along though! I just don’t want to get followed by some creep or mugged.”

“Anyone?” Veronica whispered softly, getting lost in Heather’s soothing eyes. Heather brought her in for a slight hug, murmuring against her ear.

“Anyone.”

“Heather.” Veronica thought of the bouncy-blond (who had stole her friginity.), who always wore her hair up in a bow (so unique compared to the other Heathers) and had a short little, yellow plaid skirt.

“Which one, I’m not a mind reader.” Heather Chandler pulled back, cocking an eyebrow. She saw the blush on Veronica’s face as she thought of Heather McNamara, “Wait, are you dating Heather Duke or McNamara?”

“No! Eww!” Veronica _lied_. But she couldn’t tell Chandler about the kiss, the red-clad girl would attack McNamara – she knew it. And besides, it made her heart flutter when Heather Chandler got protective, “Heather McNamara.”

Heather Chandler snorted but nodded, “Fine. I’ll keep Homophobe no.1 under control.”

“Why doesn’t she homophobically bully you?” Veronica asked quietly as Heather Chandler got up, fixing herself up from the pillow-fight (god that sounded dirty now that Veronica thought about it.). The blond looked over her shoulder, cocking an eyebrow. She smiled at Veronica’s confused face, “Because nobody knows I’m ‘gay’ according to Ram and Kurt I’m super straight.”

“But they asked me if I fucked you,” Veronica got up, fixing her leather-jacket, and not needing to fix her hair since she always wore it in a messy pony-tail or just bushed out anyway, “That’s not what you ask about a straight person.”

Heather Chandler said nothing and just left, calling over her shoulder, “Come on, _Ronnie_. We’ll go get McNamara, and meet up with Courtney at the Tri County Mall.”

Veronica sighed and nodded, following after Heather.

~

_*Pov of Heather Chandler*_

“Veronica!” McNamara squealed as she opened her door, almost throwing herself on Veronica. Heather Chandler watched from the car, rolling her eyes and crossing her arms grumpily. She watched as Veronica leaned into McNamara’s touch, saying something back to her. McNamara blushed. Was Veronica _flirting_ with _Heather McNa fucking Mara_? Wait – was she jealous? No, she wasn’t jealous. She just, um _fuck_ , she was just very protective of her friends, especially Heather Mac because she was a smol sunflower child.

“ _Admit it! You have a thing for Veronica, the biggest chick-magnet you’ve ever seen._ ” A little voice in the back of her mind jeered, and she shook her head. She looked back over at Veronica and McNamara who were still hugging, and felt her heart pang in aggression. Veronica was such a player, it was obvious from the thousands of strange blonds and brunettes that had come up to her, begging her to fuck them, yet she always said no. Was she preserving something?

Heather Chandler took on a cold smirk, Veronica would be hers.

Heather McNamara pulled away, nodding. She bounced alongside Veronica, unknowingly flashing her panties every time she did so. Heather Chandler snarled as she saw Veronica stare, entranced like David Brook when she had let him stuff his hand up her shirt when they were fourteen. It was funny, how similar Veronica was to a guy, and yet how different she was. She may have still had the, ‘I NEED WOMEN’ outlook, but she never acted upon it. She kept calm and kept her distance.

She played football, like any other jock, but never used it to take advantage of other girls. In fact, Heather Chandler was certain Veronica had never even _kissed_ another girl before – which was a miracle with the amount of blonds who crawled to her, keening to be her first kiss and fuck. Veronica turned them down left, right and centre which Chandler found astonishing, sine _she_ personally, would’ve bedded them all if she weren’t hiding her sexuality as much as possible from the student-eye.

Chandler glared daggers at Heather McNamara who looked temporarily confused, before awkwardly losing her bounce and beginning to walk slowly alongside Veronica, Chandler seeing her say, “What’s Heather’s problem?”

“ _Wouldn’t you love to know_.” Chandler thought to herself bitterly.

Veronica blinked seeing Heather Chandler’s furious stare and blushed, looking away quickly from Heather McNamara.

Heather McNamara cocked an eyebrow, and looked between the two before giving Heather Chandler a, ‘really?’ look. Wait was that . . . _envy_ in _Heather fucking McNamara’s_ eyes? Heather McNamara wasn’t capable of being jealous in her books. Had . . . had something happened? If anything happened, Heather Chandler was personally going to snap Heather McNamara’s neck in half and throw her body into a lake and telling her head to go swim for it.

“ _Wow, chill there self._ ” Chandler thought to herself, eyes widening that she was capable of being that protective. She gripped the wheel of her Porsche tightly, gulping down the lump in her throat. _Fuck_. She hadn’t gotten that protective since she saw that creepy trench-coat kid staring at Veronica. She took a deep breath as Veronica hopped into the passenger-seat and Heather McNamara hopped in the back. Veronica instantly flicked to some loud-rock music station, and Heather McNamara snort and said, “Yeah right, am I listening to Green Day and Nirvana all the way to the Tri County Mall.”

Veronica glared at her, “Well what do you want to listen to?” Veronica scowled at her and Heather Chandler couldn’t help but smile at their bickering. It was oddly adorable – having someone all, ‘cutesy’ and a jock arguing over their taste in music. Veronica hissed at her, “ _Madonna_?”

“Yes, actually.” Heather McNamara changed the radio to a Madonna sing.

“Jesus, even _I_ can’t listen to that drawl,” Heather Chandler hissed as Madonna droned on about doing something, ‘like a virgin.’ And quickly changed the channel, seeing Veronica beam with hope for a moment as she flicked over the rock-channel. Finally she settled on Prince’s charming voice.

Veronica pressed her hands to her ears to block out the singing, letting out a distressed noise, “Jesus do you only listen to Green Day?” Heather Chandler snorted at her, rolling her eyes as Veronica nodded, “You need real tastes in music.”

“I do have real-tastes in music!” Veronica snapped back at her, not even properly frustrated, “Rock is the only genre of music.” She glared at the radio, as if blaming it, “Everything else is just rip-offs.”

Heather McNamara burst into laughter in the back of the car, clutching at the seat-belt as she rolled over and over. Heather Chandler pulled over to slam her head against the wheel real quick, “Are you actually fucking stupid?” She looked over at Veronica, gaping at her.

“It’s true,” Veronica said calmly, as if it was normal information, “Billie Joe Armstrong said so.” This made Heather Chandler almost become a fish out of water, almost dying in her seat.

Heather McNamara was crying with laughter, “Veronica, you truly are a dork.” She bawled out through her laughter, as they took off.

“Shut up Heather!” Veronica tried to hit her over the seat.

“Nobody hits a lady.” Heather Chandler leaned over to grab at Veronica’s hair and tug at it sharply, “Bar a certain few situations.” Heather Chandler waggled her eyebrows and pulled back, hearing Heather McNamara wheezing with laughter again and seeing Veronica blushing.

“Fuck you.” Veronica grumbled, crossing her arms and leaning back as they pulled up at the Tri County Mall.

“You wish.” Heather Chandler said as they got out of the car, looking around for Courtney. Heather McNamara eagerly took a spot beside Veronica, pressing against her gently and daring to lace their fingers together. Heather Chandler almost _growled_ lowly at this, balling her fists as she searched for Courtney.

“Heather!” She looked across the crowds to see Courtney sitting by the fountain, legs crossed over, head tossed back and staring right at her, a smile on her face, “So glad you could make it. Find a bodyguard?”

“Yup, and I’m sure you know her well.” Heather Chandler smiled, seeing Courtney flex an eyebrow at this.

Courtney was the embodiment of gender-roles and other shit. Chandler would be lying if she said she never saw Courtney scold her mother for being active other than in the kitchen. While Courtney planned to go to college, it was to get some silly degree her father wanted her to go, and then she’d marry some lawyer and become a stay-at-home mam. Courtney believed homosexuals were the, ‘devils on earth’ and Denmark was her most hated country because they legalized gay-marriage. She herself hated Courtney, but it was a friendship she needed to preserve to stay relevant amongst the preps.

But, _fuck_ , did Chandler hate her.

“Whom could they be? Maybe Brittany? Chloe? They’ve both been taking Martial Arts for the past year.” Courtney guessed and Chandler smirked at her.

Heather McNamara eyed Courtney warily, knowing the whole Veronica story, and Veronica made sure to keep her head low, blushing softly. Except this time it was out of anger and hidden embarrassment not a crush.

“Oh I bet you’ll love them,” Chandler tugged Veronica closer, “It’s Veronica.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> OOO LOOK.  
> CHANDLER'S BEING A BITCH SLIGHTLY 0o0
> 
> I'm wondering if Chandler is being OOC because I feel like she is, but I also feel like she isn't and I've just added a, 'soft-side.' Do you guys think she's too OOC? 
> 
> Thanks for reading :)


	5. Shopping Adventures

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's short,
> 
> The next one will be better I promise (and probably contain a lot more Chansaw ;))

**Chapter Five**

**Shopping Adventures**

Veronica wanted to punch Heather right in the jaw.

Chandler _knew_ she and Courtney had a bad history, so why the _fuck_ did she think this was okay? She tugged on where Chandler had her by the sleeve, grunting at the effort of trying to get away. At her fifth tug, Chandler buried her heel into Veronica’s foot, glaring at her bitterly. Veronica let out a yelp, glaring at Chandler even more. Courtney looked at them both, an amused look in her eye, “If your little girlfriend drama is done,” Veronica blushed and Chandler’s eyes widened as she stared at Courtney. Veronica heard Heather McNamara let out a squeak of distress, “Can you explain to me, Heather, why you’ve brought a dyke along?”

“Because I’m better than your prissy friends.” Veronica retorted, letting out another yelp as Chandler dug her heel further into her toe, “Fuck you.”

“You wish.” Courtney chided sweetly, Veronica hearing McNamara scoff and continue to bite her nails, “Anyway, _why_ Heather?”

“Because Veronica’s a badass. I always get her to do the, ‘dirty-work’ like rough-housing people.” Heather Chandler shrugged, “One guy lost a tooth and had a broke-nose after she went after him.” Chandler smiled at Veronica, batting her eyelashes and making the other girl blush a deep-shade of red. Courtney crossed her arms, looking slightly impressed(?) at the information. She leaned forward from where she had been leaning back over the fountain slightly, “So, Veronica, why should I trust you?”

“Because Heather’s my friend and I’m doing this for her, not _you_.” Veronica growled slightly, crossing her arms, “Why would I ever help _you_ , after what you tried to do to me?”

Courtney rolled her eyes, “What payment is she giving you? A free ride on the school bicycle? I’m sure you’d love that.”

“Excuse me?!” Chandler and Veronica bought said in union, Chandler’s grip tightening on her sleeve and Veronica’s growl more prominent. Heather Chandler looked at Veronica, “I would never fuck my best friend.”

“And she’s not a school bicycle. That’s just fucking rude.” Veronica defended Chandler, looking back at her. Heather McNamara piped up from behind them, finally saying something.

“Besides, you used to be the school-bicycle until you became Peter’s bicycle.”

“Fuck you, McNamara.” Veronica looked over her shoulder to see Heather just shrug the insult off, only looking slightly hurt.

Heather Chandler cocked an eyebrow in admiration for Heather McNamara’s insult, before turning back to Courtney, “I thought it didn’t matter who I brought to protect us, as long as they were up for it?”

“You didn’t tell me it would be a dyke.” Courtney responded bitterly, “But fine, but if she even thinks of flirting with you or Heather McNamara in front of me, I’ll bail on this and go shopping myself.” She said with a slight, ‘huff’ at the end and a cross of her arms. Veronica cocked an eyebrow at her antics, slightly impressed. Chandler looked at Veronica, as if expecting a retort, “And let some creep rape you?” Veronica finally said, smiling as Courtney paused and became flustered, “Would you rather be mugged or raped, or walk within a foot of a dyke for an hour and a half?”

“Fine.” Courtney responded, curling her lip in a sneer as Veronica smirked at her, “But no PDA.”

“PDA? I’m not even with them.” Veronica winced as she could almost picture Heather McNamara gasping as she tugged on her hair, and then imagined her hurt face at that sentence. Chandler seemed almost _relieved_ , as if she had thought she and Heather McNamara were together, and had been praying they weren’t.

“According to lil Mc’s face, you are.” Veronica rolled her eyes and she heard Heather McNamara let out a squeak and Chandler a chuff of anger.

“We’re not together.” Veronica replied firmly, trying not to picture McNamara’s face.

Courtney sniggered, “Sure,” She agreed sarcastically, “Anyway, let’s go, Heather!” She chirped merrily, getting up and hooking arms with Chandler who was tugged away from Veronica. Veronica rolled her wrist a bit, glad to not have Chandler tugging at it or holding it tightly.

“Do we seriously have to follow her around?” Heather McNamara grumbled, still nibbling on the tips of nails. She looked slightly hurt from the, ‘we’re not together’ comments, which Veronica had to admit she didn’t understand. They weren’t together. Heather McNamara had jumped her in an alley, and she had simply felt, ‘that side’ kick in. She flinched at her cruelty but shook her head. No, she had to be this cruel.

“Yes.” Veronica sighed, running her hand through her hair, “But we could always be in the next shop over?”

“Sure!” Heather McNamara squeaked, grabbing onto Veronica’s hand.

“Let’s go.” Veronica smiled happily, letting Heather McNamara dragged her away to whatever shop she wanted to go to. As she was dragged past Heather Chandler, she saw the red-clad girl glare at Heather McNamara, before she heard Heather Chandler whisper into her ear.

“After this, you wouldn’t mind stopping by my house? I need to talk to you about something.”

Veronica blushed a bright red, and she saw Heather McNamara growl at Heather Chandler, but said nothing. It would be best if these two warred out on their own, they didn’t need the problem trying to help the problem.

Was this game to them? To see who could get with her first? Who could see her bedroom for several reasons other than hanging out? Who could see parts of her only Veronica ever saw? Was that it? Did either of them _really_ care? Or were they just use her for their own entertainment? She clenched Heather McNamara’s hand tighter, hearing the girl let out a yelp of pain. Veronica didn’t even care, just glared at the floor.

“What’s wrong, Ronnie?” Heather asked innocently, headed tilted to the side like a confused dog, “Did Heather or I say something?”

“No,” Veronica replied bitterly, scowling slightly, “ _It’s what you’re doing_.” Her eyes narrowed, and her hands clenched Heather’s tighter, wincing as the smaller girl yelped and yanked her hand back. Heather McNamara clutched her hand tightly, gaping at Veronica. She heard Heather Chandler snigger from behind them, “What’s wrong Heather, can’t take a footballer’s grip?”

Heather McNamara blushed and Veronica looked over her shoulder, “How long do I have to stay here?”

“As long as I want you.” Heather Chandler replied, cocking an eyebrow, “Are you reconsidering? You said you’d be cool.” Veronica let out an exasperated sigh.

“I am cool, just wondering.” Veronica murmured, scuffing her shoes.

“If the creep doesn’t show up, you can leave.” Courtney replied quickly, not letting Heather Chandler reply, “Hopefully he won’t show up.” Courtney seemed to be praying the creep won’t shop up.

Veronica couldn’t help but pray he wouldn’t show up either.

~*~

Veronica stared at Heather Chandler in amazement, feeling her heart skip a beat. She and Heather McNamara had just finished shopping at Hot Topic, Zara and Adidas (for Veronica) and the two of them had to tell the creep who was following Courtney and Chandler to fuck off occasionally and now they were stuck with Courtney and Chandler for the rest of the hour and a half. A part of her was glad they were going to be stuck with them while the other wished to get away from Courtney’s snide comments. But right now, she was glad she got to spend half an hour watching Chandler changing into seductive dresses.

Heather was currently sporting a thin red dress with no shoulder-straps. It hugged every part of her, bringing out her hips, her chest and her ass. Veronica felt herself heat up at that, sinful thoughts running through her mind. Not that they were anything new, but the outfit Heather was wearing was making it so much more painful. She gagged a bit on her own spit as Heather was asked by Heather McNamara to swing her hips, to see if McNamara could see her in a club. Veronica snagged her bottom-lip with her teeth, staring at Heather  _enraptured_. Her grey-eyes and blond hair seemed to glow with the dress on, and Veronica wanted to just-

“ _Shit_.” She thought to herself, rubbing the heels of her hands into her eyes.

She heard Courtney laugh as she did so, “Oh, see something you like do you, Veronica?” Courtney’s homophobic comments had begun to dwindle into, ‘you like Chandler’ or, ‘You like McNamara.’ And Veronica was thankful as fuck. Veronica blushed furiously, shaking her head in denial. Even McNamara let out a chortle at that, Chandler winking at her making her an even darker shade of red.

“No.” Veronica managed to stammer out.

“Jesus, could you be any less obvious?” Heather McNamara spluttered through her laughter, Chandler jokingly running a finger under Veronica’s chin and lifting her head up. Veronica blushed furiously, furrowing her eyebrows in what she hoped looked like a glare. She let go of her bottom lip, in hopes of not looking like a wimp. Chandler leaned down and pressed a kiss to the collar of leather-jacket, leaving a lipstick mark on it. Veronica’s mouth closed and shut at this, unable to speak.

“You’re not a fish.” Courtney commented on her face, “Also, that lipstick stain is going to give everybody the wrong idea. I would recommend washing it off.” Veronica flushed even more, biting her bottom lip and taking off her leather-jacket. She heard Heather McNamara choke on her own spit.

Veronica rarely showed her arms, they were much too skinny for a footballer. _But_ , the muscles were well defined along her arm. They were skinny-enough, not stick-thin but not fat and huge like the guys, but just _muscly_. She blushed as Heather McNamara spluttered like a fish and Heather Chandler’s eyes widened as her face went as red as her scrunchie. Both had a look in their eye that Veronica couldn't quite place an emotion on. Even Courtney looked impressed – though she’d probably deny it vehemently.

“Holy shit.” Was all Chandler could manage, and Heather McNamara nodded in agreement, “How did I not see those before?”

“Because both you and McNamara turned around when I had to get changed into the new attire.” Veronica shrugged casually, even though her heart was aflutter. She winked a bit as to emphasis why they would turn around. Chandler gulped down a lump in her throat, rubbing the back of her neck in surprise. Heather McNamara stammered out a, “You should wear your leather jacket less often.”

“Flattered.” Veronica laughed slightly at her face, jaw dropped and eyes wide as she stared at the muscles. Veronica began to scrub at the lipstick stain, trying not to blush at the fact she had to so. Heather Chandler went back into the changing rooms to change out of the alluring dress, and Veronica had to make sure she didn’t beg her not to, distracting herself by licking her thumb and scrubbing at the lipstick stain again.

Thankfully, by the time Heather Chandler had come back (dressed in her usual grey-plaid skirt and red-blazer), the stain was long gone. Veronica held out the leather jacket, looking it up and down, as if not trusting Chandler to not have left more marks, but her leather-jacket was clean.

She went to put it back on, but Heather McNamara snatched it away, “It’s too warm to wear leather.” She said quickly, everybody laughing as she slung the leather-jacket over her handbag, “You’ll boil alive!”

“That is the biggest excuse to stare at her arms I’ve ever heard.” Heather Chandler rolled her eyes at the reasoning as to why Veronica couldn’t wear her jacket. Courtney snorted as she got up, stuffing the dress and leather-jacket she had decided to wear to the disco into her bag. She looked at Heather Chandler, “You can’t say much, you were the one staring at her arms like you’d just seen Jesus.” Heather Chandler blushed and began to deny it but all Veronica could make-out amongst the gibberish was a childish-toned, ‘No.’

Veronica watched the two bicker, amused as all hell. Heather McNamara giggled and rested her head lightly on Veronica’s shoulder, letting out a hum of content. Veronica gently wrapped a hand around her waist, pulling her closer slightly, and hearing McNamara let out a squeak.

“You want to take this to the fucking ladies restroom?” Heather Chandler snapped at Courtney, ‘z-snapping’ her fingers all the way, “Let’s take it to the ladies restroom!”

Heather Chandler always fought in the ladies bathroom in public, because the bathroom was a usual hangout in school. As well as the fact it was _slightly_ more private than the changing rooms. Courtney cocked an eyebrow, crossing her arms, “Come on then! Let’s take it to the ladies bathroom.”

Heather McNamara nuzzled against Veronica as they watched the two go. Veronica let her, smiling innocently at anybody who looked their way. They got a few disgusted looks, but mostly got either neutral or, ‘aww’ faces. _But_ , she and Heather McNamara weren’t anything! No! No! No! That wasn’t the case! She wasn’t a creep on her own friends, that would be weird. Haha.

Haha.

Forget it.

The two sat there, nuzzled up against each-other, Veronica letting out a low sound of disturbance any time Heather McNamara moved, and Heather just letting out a low hum of delight. Veronica pulled her closer before McNamara jumped away quickly. She looked over to see Heather Chandler and Courtney marching over, both laughing though Veronica knew Heather Chandler’s fake-laugh better than the red-clad girl did.

Heather McNamara looked away quickly from Veronica, blushing slightly.

Chandler furrowed her eyebrows and looked between the two, as if suspicious. Veronica awkwardly rubbed the back of her neck, and Heather McNamara whistled casually. This seemed to only raise Heather Chandler’s suspicion more. Veronica gulped in fear at Chandler’s hawk-like vision closing in on Heather McNamara.

“Ready to go, girls?” Heather Chandler asked bitterly as Courtney left the store to find her own car. Heather McNamara nodded quietly, and Veronica let out a grunt of a response. Heather Chandler glared at Heather McNamara as she got up, pulling Veronica up by her hand with her. It seemed like the red-clad girl wanted to snap Heather McNamara’s head in half – which Veronica wouldn’t be surprised by if it was true.

“ _Is it just a game?_ ” Veronica couldn’t help but wonder as Heather McNamara quickly let go of her hand, Veronica pushing herself up to stand tall beside her. Chandler grumbles something, and rolls her perfect, grey eyes. She grabs her bags of clothes (that Veronica doesn’t see the point in – she’s not going to that shit disco they throw in the nearby football-clubs clubhouse) and strides to the entrance of the shop, clothes already payed for.

“Come on you two!” She called over her shoulder, “Let’s _motor_.” Veronica got up, fixed her blue-grey t-shirt and followed after Heather McNamara who was prancing despite the awkward tension between the three of them. Veronica sighed but smiled as Heather Chandler and her began to bicker over some stupid thing of, ‘Zara vs Hot Topic’ and soon the two had forgotten the tension over,

“I love Veronica.”

Veronica took a sharp inhale of breath through her nose, “ _For the first time ever, I feel jealous of Duke._ ”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the long wait! I've been busy with other fics on FFN (And rping on there), and haven't had time to get this working! I feel like everybody's a bit robotic in this, lost it's natural flow but wat can u do :///// 
> 
> Anyway, thanks for reading!
> 
> #TeamMcNamayer or #TeamChansaw?


	6. Yellow Promises and Red Bedrooms

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Heather McNamara has advice to give to Veronica and reveals what happened during, 'her stage.' and Heather Chandler and Veronica rant about Kurt and Ram.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wow, this chapter was a . . . a struggle, to say the least. I think I definitely lost the flow and style from the other chapters, but mostly because this chapter was a PAIN IN THE ASS TO WRITE. I literally want to take my laptop and burn it so the data is lost :'/ 
> 
> Anyway, I've been over the moon recently. Why?
> 
> BECAUSE I GOT FANART *Shrieks* 
> 
> I went onto tumblr (Chansaw is a bookmarked page leave me alone okay), and looked at the latest posts. I laughed at some Dear Evan Hansen parody thing and then I saw Bambocomicx and looked at the art. It was Heather McNamara and Chandler being impressed by Veronica's (tiny) muscles, and I was like, "huh, that's . . . very similar to my idea, funny. THEN I FOUND IT WAS BASED OFF MY FANFIC AND I LITERALLY SQUEALED AND TOLD ALL MY FRIENDS (other than one of them who would've told the popular kids, and we don't want that.)
> 
> So I'd like to thank Bambocomicx for the artwork, I really liked it :) (It's the first piece of art that's based off of anything I've ever written :'DDDDD) Here's link (dunno if this will work help)
> 
> http://bambocomicx.tumblr.com/post/159623055362/based-on-this-chapter-of-wanted-by-dnacat-bless
> 
> This has been a really long note, sorry ;-;

**Chapter Six:**

**_FUCK THIS CHAPTER_ **

**_Ipromisethisisanemptypromisefromthelastchapter,_ **

**_nextchapterwillbebetterIpromise_ **

**_*Flips over table*_ **

Veronica found herself stopped in the middle of the car-park, Heather McNamara grabbing her softly by her chin and turning Veronica to look at her. Veronica cocked an eyebrow, knowing (or guessing, really) that Heather wouldn’t kiss her, not with Heather Chandler about two feet away. Heather dropped her face quickly, taking a deep breath, “We need to talk.”

“Talk?” Veronica tilted her head slightly, “Heather’s gonna get the wrong idea if we spend too long talking and then,” She grabbed Heather by the chin and gently tugged it to the right, making a cracking sound, “You’re gone, so I’d suggest making it quick.”

“Listen, Ronnie,” Heather M took a deep breath through her mouth, “I know, the stage you’re going through is difficult, being in love with two people, but it’ll only get more difficult if Heather kisses you.” Heather M said quietly, “I-I care too much to let Heather drag this little, ‘stage’ down-hill so quickly, so j-just don't kiss her, okay?"

“You realize how clingy that sounds?” Veronica was listening to her advice, sure, but the last line? Was Heather trying to make sure she wouldn’t kiss Heather? Was she jealous? It wouldn’t be the first time, but deliberately preventing her from seeing Heather. That was a shock.

“Yes, I know, Ronnie, but if you do kiss her, everything’s going to go to shit and,” Heather stammered a bit, starting words and then cutting them off with, ‘no that doesn’t sound right’ and repeat, “And I don’t want your stage to be like mine.” Veronica’s eyes widened and Heather McNamara took a shaky breath, one you’d only ever hear if she was crying, “My stage was shit, I got a book about ‘that stage’ and it wasn’t meant to be like mine. At all.”

“What do you mean?” Veronica tilted her head slightly, “Hey, Heather,” Heather had a single crystal-tear rolling down her cheek, “Heather, I’m here, you can tell me anything.” Veronica grabbed the girls arm, rubbing it gently before pulling her in close. Heather rested her head against Veronica’s chest.

“It was horrible Veronica. T-The first person was nice, and friendly, but the second person wanted to be the one I fell in love with.” Heather M stammered through a choked sob, “S-So they bullied me. They said they’d tell everyone I was a raging dyke, that they’d publicly embarrass me, a-and that . . . threatened to hit me.”

Veronica froze up. She didn’t let go of Heather M, just pulled her close before she looked down at the tiny girl, “Heather, w-who were they? Whoever the fuck they are, they’re going to get a fist to their face.” 

“No, they didn’t physically hurt me,” Heather M reached up for her face, running a thumb over her cheek, “They wouldn’t dream of hitting me, it was only when you stepped into my life, I realized I didn’t love them.”

“But, you come out of that stage with what you like in partners, isn’t that the whole point?” Veronica said softly, wanting to pull Heather closer, but restraining herself, “So how did you love someone like me, if you loved someone like them, because I personally think I’m not like them.”

“You aren’t. I was . . . different. I loved things in both of the people in my stage.” Heather M gulped down a lump in her throat, “So, I-I came out with two preferences in people. Cold and tough and sweet and funny.”

“And I’m all four of those things.” Veronica waggled her eyebrows, making Heather laugh slightly. Heather smiled up at her, pressing a quick peck to her lips.

“Yes, yes you are Ronnie.” Heather smiled as she rested her head against Veronica’s chest once more, making the taller girl flush, “B-But just promise me, okay? I-I don’t care if she’s what you prefer in the end, I really don’t, there are plenty of other people like you, and if you’re happy,” Heather looked up to stare dead into Veronica’s eyes, blue clashing against brown in a magical way, “Then I’m happy. But just, don’t kiss her. I don’t want your stage to be like mine, chaotic and dangerously clingy.”

“I’ll try, but I don’t want to hurt her.” Veronica sighed against Heather’s hair, feeling the smaller girl shudder.

“I know you don’t.” Heather said quietly, removing her head from Veronica’s chest to once again look into her chest-nut brown eyes, “But sometimes you have to sacrifice to make life easy.”

“Well aren’t you just a great friend.” Veronica chuckled lightly, leaning down slightly. Heather McNamara didn’t reply, just stood there, eyes half-lidded as she stared directly into Veronica’s mouth as she leaned upwards. Veronica felt their breaths mingling, could almost taste Heather McNamara’s lipstick-

“Veronicaaaaaaaaaaaaaa!” The two broke apart, Heather McNamara shoving Veronica back in an effort to not look like they were about to make-out. Veronica stumbled backwards, falling back on someone’s car and slumping on the ground. Veronica glared over at Heather Chandler who was smirking at the sight of Veronica on the ground, looking disgruntled.

Heather McNamara covered her mouth, “Shit, sorry Ronnie!”

“It’s fine. Fucking Heather Chandler.” Veronica rubbed the back of her head, scowling at Heather Chandler’s car where the red-clad girl was leaning back into her leather-seats, heads crossed over behind her head and a smirk on her lips, “Typical.” Veronica thought to herself bitterly, letting Heather McNamara help her up, “But you love it.”

Veronica shook those thoughts from her head and focused on the fact she had been pulled up, and hadn’t stepped back. She was pressed against Heather awkwardly and she stepped back instantly, “Thanks.” She murmured gently, “For the advice and t-the hug.” She rubbed the back of her neck and Heather McNamara awkward nod.

“No problem.” Heather McNamara smiled sweetly, “Um, just once more, I-I really don’t care who you choose, if you’re happy and come out of this stage relatively happy, that’s enough for me.” Heather McNamara beamed at her, cupping her cheek and pressing a kiss to her cheek quickly.

Veronica turned to Heather Chandler as she honked her car-horn once more, “Better go before you takes a picture and sends it to the school.”

Heather McNamara nodded and bounced over to the car, a wide smile on her face as she hopped into the back of the car. Veronica laughed merrily at her, striding over, chest puffed out and sitting in the passenger seat.

“Next time, don’t try to delay me by making-out.” Heather Chandler snapped at the two sarcastically, barely any ferocity in her voice. Veronica furrowed her eyebrows together, Heather McNamara blushing furiously. Heather Chandler smirked as Veronica spoke, “We were not making-out!”

 

“Is it too awkward to make-out with thoughts of me in your head?” Veronica flushed over, losing all words as Heather Chandler smirked, and Heather McNamara glared at the other Heather angrily, crossing her arms.

“You wish, love.” Veronica said sarcastically, crossing her arms and leaning back in the seat, “Now, let’s motor.” She mimicked Heather Chandler who narrowed her eyes, cocking an eyebrow.

“Don’t quote me, Ronnie.” Heather Chandler responded bitterly, scowling a bit. Heather McNamara chuckled a bit in the back-seat, picking at her yellow-nails as the Porsche jerked into movement and Heather Chandler drove them out of the car-park. Weaving between cars, shouting slurs at other drivers who were obeying the rules as Heather attempted to break them. Veronica chuckled slightly as Heather Chandler drove a full lane of parking-spaces to get around traffic, much to the annoyance of the other drivers.

“Great driving Heather.”

“SHUT UP HEATHER.”

Veronica leaned back and closed her eyes slowly, beginning to drift off to sleep, smiling as the Heathers bickered over Heather Chandler’s driving skill.

~*~

There they were, the demon-queen of high-school and her apparent, ‘thug’ in a bedroom by themselves in an empty house. They had dropped McNamara off at her house about twenty minutes ago, and now the two had nothing else to do but eacho- talk.

Veronica lay splayed out against the bed, legs crossed over and hands behind her head (like always) and Heather Chandler sat cross-legged facing her, twirling a blond curl around one finger. The room was silent (they had just finished talking about how stupid Alex was) and Veronica didn’t like being in a quiet room with a girl who was affecting, ‘that stage’ (as her father referred to it) so she tried to strike up conversation, “Where’s Courtney going to the disco?”

“Razorbacks club house.” Veronica sat up in sheer horror and surprise at that. She may have hated Courtney, and thought she was low-life scum on felt an anger building inside her, but going to the _Razorbacks Club House_? For a _disco_? What was she planning on doing? Fucking the other team? “T-The _Razorbacks_ Club House?” Veronica sputtered out in surprise.

“Yep, there’s actually a lot of people going this year.” Heather Chandler laughed as Veronica threw her hands up in the air and said,

“Blasphemy!”

Heather Chandler rolled her eyes, “Everyone got invitations- but from Ram.” She smirked as she saw Veronica’s face, “Further detail?” Veronica nodded, “Ram and Kurt are planning this _big_ prank on the other team. They plan on spiking the shitty punch there, and then sprayed a huge weasel on the wall of the locker room’s. Courtney said she’s only going because she wants to see.” Veronica laughed a bit, " _That's such a Kurt and Ram thing to do._ " Before realization hit her like how she kicks the ball at Kurt, no chance to prepare you just gotta react. Chandler tilted her head slightly, “Thought you would’ve known.”

“I thought I would’ve also . . .” Veronica trailed off slightly, thinking back. Had they ever brought up pranking the Razorbacks? . . . no . . . no they hadn’t. She felt an anger building inside her. Why hadn’t _she_ , the person who was embarrassed by the Razorbacks and then the one to prove to them girls were just as good – been informed about the pranking?

“ _Maybe Ram and Kurt meant to bring it up, they’ve been awfully busy_.” Veronica tried to reason with herself, tried to think positive but she only ended flinching, “Why the fuck wouldn’t they tell me?” She thought aloud, looking dead into Heather Chandler’s eyes.

“Maybe because of the thing you have against them?” Heather Chandler had a snarky but gentle tone to her voice, “they’re scared you might hit someone.”

“Yeah I’ll hit someone, them.” Veronica replied bitterly, huffing and crossing her arms. Veronica felt finger-nails tapping up her arm, almost doing a little dance as they did so. She looked over at Heather to see her staring directly at her, “They’d go running before you came within ten feet.” She smiled at Veronica before she grasped her arm tightly and almost thrust it up at Veronica’s face, “I mean, look at these guns!”

“Very funny, Heather.” Veronica rolled her eyes, and began to ramble, “But really, Kurt and Ram, my two best friends on the team, didn’t inform me we were going to prank the other team! Our biggest rivals as well! Well, my biggest rivals at least! How could they do this, I don’t understand. Don’t give me the arms as an excuse, Heather,” Veronica furrowed her eyebrows together, “I deserve to be informed of what the fuck is going on with the team, don’t you think.”

“Veron-”

“I want to be informed of what the fuck is happening! I have a right to be, I’m one of the best Quarterbacks and Running-Backs the team has ever fucking seen. So what if I’m a fuckin girl? I’m better than half the guys on the team, and fucking demolished the Razorbacks when I went up against them! So why do I get treated like I don’t exist?! Huh?!”

“Veronic-”

“I don’t understand it Heather! I want to be in on this! I want to paint a giant fucking weasel on the walls of the Razorback’s Changing room! I have all rights to be there! So why I don’t Heather?”

Veronica’s eyes widen as Heather lunges forward and presses her soft lips to hers. Veronica’s heart flutters, and the butterflies in her stomach are screaming to remember Heather McNamara while also dancing to, ‘Womanizer.’ However, Veronica can’t even hear Heather McNamara’s voice as it chants, “ _Don’t kiss her, it’ll make it worse_.”

Veronica’s eyes fluttered closed and she presses her hand to the small of her back, and Heather Chandler let’s out a noise of victory as she wraps her arms around Veronica’s neck, pulling her closer. Veronica feels Heather pushing against her and she falls back slightly, so that she’s leaning on one of her hands.

Heather crawls on top of her, almost eagerly, never breaking the lock of their lips as she lets out a huff of air through her nose. Veronica moves her left arm – which she’s leaning on in order to stay upright – as to relieve the building pain and tangle’s her right-hand into the maze that is Heather Chandler’s hair. Heather Chandler leans into the hand slightly, but not enough that the kiss loses passion or pressure.

Verona pushed them up a bit so she could lean against the oak head-board of the bed. She gripped onto anything she could get at, making Heather moan slightly into the kiss. She nibbles at Heather's lips, forcing them to part and 'slithered in' but not granting Heather access much to the chagrin of the red-clad girl. Veronica started to roll her hips up, before stopping as Heather bucked away slightly, guessing it was possibly too soon to be trying that. Besides, she didn't want to, 'get into Heather's pants' (not yet anyway), and she would much rather Heather not try to get into hers. She was going through, 'that stage' she didn't need to be fucking one of the people and still have feelings for the other. She let out a sigh in to the kiss, Heather taking it she was enjoying the slight domination. 

Veronica can’t help but notice the difference and compare Heather C and Heather M’s kiss.

Heather McNamara was eager, yet soft and knew just how to drive Veronica up the wall with her softness. However, once Veronica got into it, Heather McNamara became just as eager. Her little body had been easy to pin to the wall and _control_ almost, and Heather McNamara didn’t seem to mind. Instantly Veronica began to wonder that if Heather McNamara had initiated the kiss somewhere else other than an alley, and other than a surprise kiss, would she have let it continue longer than it had. _Fuck yes_.

Heather Chandler was the complete opposite. She was a tease and her lips were warm and gentle (it really didn’t help that both she and Veronica were teases, so it took a while for the two of them to get properly into the kiss). She was straddling Veronica, and not allowing as much control but Veronica oddly . . . liked it. She liked feeling powerless, it gave her this _need_. It rivalled the feeling of being in control, and in complete control.

“ _Stop comparing kisses twat_.” Veronica thought to herself, smiling into the kiss slightly, though not daring to break it.

Heather Chandler keened into Veronica’s mouth, wanting more as she prodded at her tongue in request. Veronica opened her lip that slight bit more and Heather Chandler made herself at home. Veronica nipped at her lips and when her tongue ventured too close to Veronica’s teeth, she would gently clamp down on it, not enough to bring anything other than the feeling of being squished and tingled.

Heather Chandler pulled Veronica closer, rocking into her gently, her hips rolling gently and shuddering down into Veronica’s crotch. Veronica lowered her hand to squeeze Heather’s, ah, ‘cheeks’ and then put them on her waistline. Veronica licked a long strip into Heather’s mouth, smirking as Heather made a noise of pleasure and desire.

Veronica rolled her hips upwards, groaning at the feeling of it all and Heather parted their lips. Veronica kissed down her jawline as Heather whispered into her ear, “Eager for a piece of action, aren’t we, ‘Ron-Ron’?” And as Heather’s hands travelled down to the hem of her shirt Veronica stopped.

“H-Heather,” Veronica flushed slightly, “I-I want to keep my virginity,” Heather cocked an eyebrow, “It’s not that I-I don’t like you . . . it’s just.”

“Scared?” Heather asked as she nibbled at Veronica’s ear-lobe who shivered, “I understand.”

“Not scared just . . . not ready.” Veronica murmured, still holding Heather close and letting her nibble at her neck.

“ _This, this made the situation even worse and we’re not even close to the chaos_.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *Decides she'll ignore the chapter until it goes away*
> 
> This was such a pain in my head to write, because the flow was completely lost, I made five drafts read through them all and had to choose which was best because none of them were good or stuck with the style of the fanfic :/ Hope you enjoyed it as best you could (since it was a steaming hot pile of sh-). 
> 
> Sorry that this chapter was so biased to Chansaw, there's just a few chapters that NEED to be biased towards one of the two #teams, but most of them will contain a balanced amount of shipping :)
> 
> Also: Though it won't happen for a few chapters (and sorry to any of you whom were expecting smut), would you guys be cool with a few smut chapters in the future? I don't know if I should do them, but they really wouldn't add anything to the fic. People who don't want them could easily skip over them if they wanted to, but I was wondering if other's want to see kinky stuff ;) ?


	7. Little Mind of Horrors

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "Everything you want, is on the other side of fear."   
> Veronica begins to regret her decisions, and decides to confront the reasoning as to why she wasn't informed about the disco-prank.

**Chapter Seven:**

**Little Mind of Horrors**

Veronica lay on her bed, hands tangled in her hair and legs splayed out over the edge of the bed. Her mind was aflutter with thoughts, refusing to let her rest for one minute. Training had been a pain, especially with the fact she had to play along with the playful bounce of the guys on the team while her mind roared with anger. She let out a heavy groan, hands slipping out of her hair to rub against her eyes.

All she could think about was the Heathers. Bar Heather Duke, obviously.

And worst of all, was how _everything_ reminded her of the kisses.

Walking past alleys triggered Heather McNamara pulled her in by her collar, a hand in her hair that was gripping too tightly reminded her of how she had tugged at Heather Chandler’s hair, heavy breathing after-training would initiate memories of both of the Heather’s. She hadn’t been surprised when the memories haunted her on the first day – she had read it was meant to – but after five days, she became worried.

Was this what Heather McNamara had been talking about? Or was there something much worse waiting around the corner? Veronica gripped at her hair tightly as another memory was triggered at even the thought of Heather McNamara.

“ _The sound of lips on skin, gasps of air, ‘Shit Veronica.’ A voice coos.”_

Veronica let out a huff of air in anger, sitting up and looking out her window. She _loathed_ this stage, loathed everything to do with it. Loathed the fact she had gone against Heather McNamara because she can’t control herself, loathed the fact she had to choose between the two girls, loathed the fact she couldn’t have both and loathed the fact that one day, she wouldn’t care about the fact she had to only pick one.

She needed someone to talk to – anyone. Her mother, father, cousin, aunt, teacher or even _Courtney_ would be good to talk to by now. She just needed _someone_. Anyone. She hated being this vulnerable, hated being this weak, hated the fact she was ready to bow her head to Heather Chandler and Heather McNamara. She couldn’t help it that all Heather McNamara had to offer was quick smile and Veronica would go to the ends of the world, or that Heather Chandler had to whisper something in her ear and Veronica would jump into a volcano and swim to the bottom of it to get a pebble for her.

She gritted her teeth angrily, “ _Pathetic_.” Was what echoed in her head as the memories of her teeth worrying and clamping down gently around Heather Chandler’s tongue adventured throughout her mouth. She let out a groan of frustration and ran her hands through her hair, spinning so she sat on the edge of the bed.

She watched as the rain pattered gently against the window, sometimes picking up to thrum violently, though it would always calm and slow. Oddly like her – in a way. Always calm and collected one minute and the next she was reckless and making out with one of the Heathers. One second she would be gentle and understanding, the next she would be fiery and rebellious. It never made sense her personality, it wasn’t bipolar disorder, they had seen if that was it. It had been nearer the age where you get, ‘that stage’ so the doctor suggested it could be how she’ll come to recognize who she loves the most. He said there was no signs of bipolar disorder, and that was the only explanation he could muster.

Veronica wasn’t sure if it was because it was that time in a teenagers life for her, or if it was just her being her.

She stared at the window, slowly raising her elbow to rest on her knee, and her chin rested calmly in the palm of her hand. She strained her eyes to look downwards, and it was too late before she had realized she hadn’t her letterman or her Heathers leather-jacket on. Her heart thrummed and mind flittered with memories of Heather Chandler and McNamara staring at her arms like they’d been offered all the money in the world for no good reason.

She sputtered back to the present, letting out a yelp of fright, clutching at her chest, “Fuck.” She muttered under her breath bitterly, “I should’ve listened.”

She should’ve listened – should’ve been fucking responsible. Should’ve taken Heather McNamara’s advice and ushered Heather Chandler off of her. But _no_ she chose to be a bitch and let Heather Chandler straddle her. Let her bury their faces together, and she had been _glad_. Would she go back and change that now? Yes.

Veronica reached for her letterman, which had her second name imprinted on the back, in big, white letters, ‘SAWYER.’ It used to have names of the other players on it, but it had been bleached off by her mother during one of the washes. She looked at it and ran her thumb over each letter, before putting it on.

“Having a moment?” She jumped backwards, toppling onto the floor as she spun to see her mother standing in the doorway, arms crossed and eyebrow cocked in amusement. Veronica clutched at the ‘W’ on the letterman in a dramatic fashion.

“Mom, knock next time.” Veronica let out a muttered sigh, her mother chuckling a bit.

“I’ll try. Especially when one of the Heathers are over.” Her mother winked at her, Veronica feeling herself heat up, “But what were you talking about?” Her mother asked, coming over to sit down on the bed, crossing her legs over.

Veronica couldn’t help but analyse how similar she and her mother looked. Her mother had the same, brunette bushy hair. Her eyes were a slightly darker chestnut-brown, and were always half-lidded in this dainty way. She was smaller, and had a much more feminine build than Veronica. However, she had slightly broader shoulders than most women (resembling Veronica’s, though her daughter’s were much larger). She skinnier thighs as Veronica’s contained more power behind them to help her pelt down the football field. She was _much_ smaller than Veronica, about five inches smaller.

It was funny, it was like Veronica was a masculine version of her mother.

“Nothing much, teenage problems, football and school.” Veronica shrugged casually, pushing herself to her feet. She sat down on her bed beside her mother, hands gripping the frame of the bed as she stared at the ground silently. She saw her mother tilt her head out of the corner of her eye and she looked at her, “Were you and dad a result of, ‘that stage’?” Veronica couldn’t help but ask, and felt her skin heat up a bit.

“Yes, actually.” Her mother nodded slowly, “It usually brings out your soul-mate, or at least what your soul-mate will be like.” Her mother peered at her closely, “Are you going through it? Is that why I caught you and Heather like that?”

Veronica blushed slightly, “That’s not why you caught Heather and me like that – but yes I am going through ‘that stage’.” Veronica mumbled, looking away slightly. She had heard about how parents reacted from Martha, who even though she was head-over-heels for Ram, had already been through the stage. She said her outcome was – to nobody’s surprise – Ram much to the jocks disgust. Veronica had defended her friend, saying she couldn’t help but Ram insisted his pair had been Heather McNamara and Duke, not Martha.

“Can I ask who?” Her mother asked her curiously, resting her chin in her palm, resembling Veronica only a few minutes ago, and stared at the back of her daughter’s head curiously. Veronica turned back to her, blinking slowly.

“Isn’t it obvious?”

“No, because plenty of kids try to rebel against it. For all I know you could have Ram and Heather Duke, and you’re trying to get with Heather Chandler because you can’t accept it.” Her mother replied, cocking an eyebrow, “So is it Heather Chandler and McNamara?”

“Yes.” Veronica muttered quietly, feeling her mother gently rub circles into her shoulder, in an effort to soothe her daughter, “Can I ask – did you kiss either of the people when you were going through ‘that stage’?”

Her mother paused, catching onto why she would be asking, “Veronica,” Her mother took a shaky breath in through her gaping mouth, “Tell me you didn’t. Tell me you didn’t, please.”

“I did. Heather McNamara warned me, but I didn’t listen.” Veronica ran her hand through her hair again , tugging at it as she reached the far back of her hair, letting out a low hiss as memories blazed, “This is going to sound cheesy: But it was like Heather Chandler was a drug. I got hooked so quickly. I didn’t want to hurt her, and it just felt _right_.”

“I get it, but you’ve broken one heart, and broken your mind.” Her mother sighed miserably.

“How?” Veronica asked curiously, “I’ve heard plenty of kids who already have gotten out of stage, say they kissed both people and weren’t affected.”

“It depends on the person, and there’s no way of knowing how it will affect you.” Her mother sighed, “Listen, just don’t do anything that might trigger memories. They’ll clear up, and until then no interacting with the Heathers in romantic ways, as it’ll extend the stage.”

“ _Was this what Heather meant? Was this what happened to her?_ ” She wondered as her mother looked into her eyes, concern gleaming in them, “Okay, but what should I do if they ask? Or try to kiss me or . . . y’know.”

“Politely say no. I’m sure they’ll understand.” Her mother advised, ruffling Veronica’s hair much to the distaste of the teen who let out a squawk and jumped away back onto her bed slightly, holding her hair like it was made out of gold and her mother had stained it, “Oh come on, you won’t be much better than your cousins if you keep that up.” Veronica glared at her bitterly, taking her hands down to cross over her arms. Her mother chortled slightly at her daughter’s bitterness.

“Don’t bring Anthony into this, that man spends about five hours in the bathroom each morning getting his hair ready.” Veronica huffed, crossing her legs over, “Also, Heather Chandler isn’t used to be doing told, ‘no’. She’s not going to take well to it.”

“All you have to do is not be alone with one of them for the next two days.” Her mother shrugged to her, “Until the memories stop.”

“Isn’t being with them going to make it worse?” Veronica asked as her mother got up to leave the room.

“No, actually. It’s actually better to be around them, some form of, ‘soothing pheromones’ or something.” Her mother shrugged, strolling out of Veronica’s room casually, “Your favourite for dinner tonight! Pork!”

Veronica paused, smiling slightly as her stomach rumbled, but suddenly she paused, “Mom, how do you know so much about this? Most parents forget after their stage ends, apparently.”

“I have my ways.” Her mother responded, twiddling her index and middle fingers in a, ‘toodles’ sign before she slipped out of the room. Veronica rolled her eyes at the childish sign, looking out the window as the rain poured heavily.

All she had to do for the next two to three days was avoid being alone with Heather McNamara or Heather Chandler.

God if only she knew.

*~*

Veronica walked towards the Westerberg club-house, which a large red-brick building with a glass roof shining into it. It also held the basket-ball court, which pep rallies would be performed on. In fact, there was a pep-rally coming up soon, and she had to select a cheerleader for the show. Her mind flickered alive with memories as she knew which cheerleader would ask to be the one to flip and bend in unrealistic angles as Veronica walked out from the lines. Maybe it would be best to avoid that for now.

Her eyes were set on the clubhouse, knowing Kurt and Ram would probably be there. It was exactly a week before the disco (which would take place on Friday), they would planning how to break into the changing rooms, the excuse as to why the Weasel wasn’t the ‘Westerberg Weasel,’ and how they’d slip the spray-paint into the disco. They did that last time, against Fairview but instead they simply spray-painted, “FAIRVIEW, MORE LIKE DICKVIEW.” And then spray-painted very vulgar images and words around it.

Veronica had been in on that, yet all she had done was spray-paint a timid, “U SUCK” Beside the image. Yet Ram was so drunk he simply let out a grunt of praise and clapped his hands. Kurt had flopped against her and said, “Wow.” Before he spray-painted the word, ‘dick’ under it. Veronica had laughed at that, earning a cheeky smirk from Kurt. Veronica had wanted to hit him, but at that point of time she was kissing up – metaphorically speaking – to the hierarchy, trying to get, ‘popular.’

And hence it had led to loosing the nickname, ‘Dyke’ or, ‘wannabe boy!’ and instead, ‘holy shit please don’t hit me in the face with a football.’ Which Veronica preferred a lot more.

So why – if all of a sudden she was the most popular player on the football team – was she not told about the prank?

“ _Because if they brought you along you’d punch someone_.” Chandler’s voice rang in her head, echoing throughout it so that every part of her brain could only see swaying hips as a red-blazered girl marched and tied back, curly and bushy blond hair. Veronica felt her face heat up as the swaying hips took over her head and she paused to gently smack herself, knowing nobody would be around – not on a Saturday. Everybody would be either preparing for some stupid exam, or chilling at home. Not at the club-house, unless they were on the football team.

Veronica shrugged on her letterman as she neared the club-house, and she suddenly heard the yelling of the basketball coach, “ _Didn’t know the basketball team had training today_.” She thought as the coach yelled, “COME ON TONY, NEED TO GET THAT DRIBBLING STRAIGHT! WHAT ARE YOU GOING TO DO IN A REAL GAME?”

And then she heard it, the chortles and much deeper voices of the football team. She took a deep breath, prepping herself as she pushed the door open. Instantly, the smell of sweat crawled up her nose, making her nostrils flare and sting.

Her eyes watered slightly, but it soon went away – like always.

She pulled on the collars of her letterman, pulling it over her as she walked down the halls. There was a few coaches talking, all looking at her with confusion in their eyes. A few players wolf-whistled as she went by, and with one look hung their heads like kicked puppies and began to murmur to each-other. She marched down, the picture of confidence and pride.

Head held high, shoulders surprisingly broad and back straight to give her those extra inches. Her name on the back of her letterman gleamed slightly.

However, it felt the like the entire gym went silent as she pushed into the football-teams locker-room.

“Veronica?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Don't like the ending.
> 
> I swear to god, thinking back on it do I like anything about this story other than the ending.


	8. Just A Prank

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Veronica finally confronts Ram and Kurt about the prank, and meets a certain creeper in her local 7/11.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'd like to thank Dreamer240 for all the fan-art she's given me! I meant to say that last time, but I forgot because that's me. All of it has been so good, and I've loved every piece of it. I would leave a link but it's been sent through discord so ¯\\_(ツ)_/¯
> 
> Also, sorry that this took so long! I had my laptop taken away because arguments 'n shit.

**Chapter Eight:**

**Just a Prank**

_The plaque was pure gold._

It was soft, smooth and shined brilliantly. It outdid everything else in the dark, miserable clubhouse, as the football team was the pride and joy of Westerberg – bar the baseball team – and hence they were given a golden plaque for their dressing rooms. It was pure gold, so star footballers were usually asked to engrave their names into the plaque. There were about ten names in it.

All stars, quarterbacks usually but there were a few line-backers and defensive backs that Veronica recognized. Veronica had just joined the team when one of the greatest heroes Westerberg had ever known was playing as cornerback, outshining everyone on the team.

_Jacob Hunter_

He had been one of the few footballers that had welcomed her onto the team, not flinching from her gender or questioning her. Just, “can you kick a ball?”, “can you run with the ball and hurl it across the field?”, “would you die for your fellow team-mates?” and once they were all answered honestly he told her she would be the greatest footballer Westerberg had ever seen. He had convinced the coach to bring her along to the game against the Razorbacks.

He and her were closer than brother and sister – not in a weird way – and he would help her practice after training. He would show her the perfect angles to throw the ball at, how to slip past even the best defender and the most mocking celebrations of getting a touch-down. He had been the turning point in her football career. He had made her so much more passionate about the team, and had even managed to convince his dad to buy them both tickets to go see the Bengal’s playing against the Patriots, and the two had a bit of drink to celebrate the win.

Then he had left, and she was left to fend for herself. She had other friends, but Jacob had been the main support-beam. He had been there when any of the guys tried to bully her, but she had to stand up for herself now. She understood that, and hence she became much more confident. She then became one of the best footballers on the team, and found herself in a position of respect and leadership.

She looked at the plaque, reading the names,

_Justin Woods 1971!_

_Zach Dempsey 1975 whoop!_

_Larry Walker 1975 Zach is my basically my brotha_

_Jacob Hunter 1990 To be honest, our team relies on Veronica_

Veronica felt oddly flattered and flushed at that comment.

_Sean Mills 1987 PRAISE THE LAWD_

_Kurt Kelly 1992 Kelly! Kelly!_

_Ram Sweeney 1992 I WILL RAM THE BALL UP YOUR A**!_

And

_Veronica Sawyer 1992 WTF Am I Meant to put here?_

She had insisted with Kurt and Ram she didn’t deserve to put her name on the plaque, that she wasn’t as good as any of the players on the plaque. Kurt had thrust the knife into her hands, while Ram chose a spot for her name. Veronica shook her head vigorously,

“No! I’m not good enough.”

“Nonsense!” Kurt had responded, nodding towards the knife and then ran his hand over the plaque, “Engrave yourself into Westerberg history!”

Veronica had sighed and drove the knife into the plaque, as if tattooing it. Other than the fact she was stabbing it – you don’t someone to give them a tattoo, obviously.

And now she was there, forever. Unless they hanged the plaque, or the world ended soon. She was always going to be there now, her name constantly remembered. Maybe she’d be honoured, maybe she’d be mocked. But all the future students of Westerberg would know, was that she played football and was good enough to engrave her name into a plaque.

“ _And maybe the fact you had both Heather McNamara_ and _Heather Chandler after you_.” She taunted herself in her head, and she shook the thought away.

She ran her thumb over Jacob’s name, brushing a bit of dust off it before she ran her thumb over each letter of her name. She took a deep inhale through her nose before she pushed into the room.

Instantly the muttering and shouting became louder than before, as she stood there, door pushed to her right and an eyebrow cocked. The team was scattered throughout the room, most holding beer-bottles or cigarettes.

The coach’s table had a large map spread across it, ‘Razorback Clubhouse’ scribbled as a title. It was well-drawn and had everything from doors, main security points, certain rooms, cameras and vents. Whoever had drawn this must’ve been drawing it for years, and must’ve searched every nook and cranny of the clubhouse for the hidden vents or rooms. A few key points had been circled, such as the locker-rooms and fire-exits, and a few rooms were coloured in red. Some were coloured in blue, like the dance-floor or the halls that led to only bathrooms and bars. On the locker-rooms, which were coloured red, was a well-drawn, ‘Westerberg Weasel,’ which had its teeth-gritted in a sneer that was mixed with a smile.

Veronica let out a sigh and looked around the room, seeing everybody was organized into their positions.

The other two, ‘spare quarter-backs’ James and Kevin were to the left of the room, both leaning back on their respective lockers – which were right beside each-other. They were mumbling to each-other, and both had cigarettes in hand. No wonder the two always wheezed after training sessions.

The running-backs, Matthew and Evan (both twins, funnily enough), were to the right of the room, beside a big poster that read, ‘HEYO WESTERBERG!’ And had a muscular weasel waving. Matthew had a near empty beer-bottle in hand, and seemed to be slurring words while Evan laughed at his brother’s drunkenness.

Ram’s fellow line-backers, Keith, Andrew and Connor, were standing over Ram’s shoulder, all holding half-empty bottles of alcohol, and were grunting in agreement at something Ram or Kurt had said. They all looked completely gone, eyes glazed over and hands sloppy in movement. Every single word of agreement was slurred in some awful format.

The corner-backs, Jacob and Nathan, were both standing there, with nothing in their hand. They were muttering about something or other, Nathan occasionally pushing his glasses p his nose to keep them from falling.

“Dude this plan is going to be _great_!” Kurt chortled, “So we’ll all ask our dates to cover for us, while we sneak out of the hall, ‘to go to the toilet’ and then we’ll sneak past this guy,” He pointed to where there must’ve been a security guard, “Into the locker-rooms and we’ll spray-paint The Weasel! Oh, and don’t forget the punch Andrew. Spike it with the worst thing possible.”

“The Razor-Backs won’t know what hit them! Especially when they’re wiping a Weasel off their locker-room walls.” Ram nodded, giggling like a fucking idiot. He sounded like he had chugged five bottles of beer and was trying to put together a clever speech, but he had just been told a good joke. Fucking idiots, sometimes. No matter how supportive they were, the two of them were stupid.

“Westerberg!” One of Ram’s fellow line-backers began to chant, and the others joined in, chorusing together, “Westerberg! Westerberg!”

“Westerberg.” Veronica said at the end, making Kurt yelp and fall backwards off the chair he was sitting on and Ram throw his bottle, just missing her head and smashing beside the door.

“Veronica!” Ram managed after a moment of confusion amongst the team, “We, uh, we weren’t expecting you.”

“I know.” Veronica looked at them all accusingly, “And I want to know why.”

“We were going to tell you.” Kurt said from the floor, glaring up at her, “And next time – _knock_.”

“Did little Kurty get scared?” Veronica hissed bitterly, “And bloody well right you were going to tell me about this little prank.” Veronica crossed her arms, “Heather Chandler told me everything.”

Ram flushed slightly, stuttering out words, “I-I’m sorry, Ron. I was just scared that if we brought you, you might smash someone’s face in from the Razorback team.” He tried to defend himself, “You can come, if you like.” Kurt stumbled up at that sentence, throwing his hands up in the air at his friend and rambling before finally he formed a coherent sentence.

“I thought we agreed on the fact that if she came, she’d hit someone!” Kurt exclaimed at his best friend, running his hand through his hair when his friend cocked an eyebrow at him, “Dude, what if she breaks someone’s nose?”

“I won’t! I’ll bring a date,” Veronica smirked at some of the team’s envious faces, “One of the Heathers, maybe?”

“Bragger.” Ram teased slightly, trying to lighten the mood, but looked at Kurt for approval of whether or not Veronica should come. Kurt let out a long, disappointed sigh. He looked between the two, “Ram, I thought we agreed-”

“Fuck sake, can I come or not?” Veronica snapped at Kurt angrily, narrowing her cinnamon-brown eyes, “I won’t hit anyone, as long as they don’t say anything.”

“And how the fuck can I rely on you not too?” Kurt turned to her finally, eyes glazed over with drunken-anger, “For all I know you’ll come along just to beat you some guy that tried to come on to you. Or maybe you’ll bring along your fuck-buddy Heather McNamara? Ask her to keep you calm?” He mocked her, though Veronica’s, ‘he’s like a brother’ side couldn’t help but try to convince her that he was just drunk. Maybe he’d be more logical if he wasn’t drunk?

“Yeah and who are you bringing?” She snapped in return, “Some hook-up? Some girl you’ll fuck, break her heart and then leave?”

“Fuck you, Sawyer.” Kurt responded coldly, fists balled and ready to throw.

“You wish, Kelly.” Veronica hissed lowly, before she had to grab his arm to keep him from punching her. Ram sprung forward, grabbing Kurt by the shoulders and chucking him backwards. Kurt grabbed onto the table as he fell backwards, letting out a grunt of surprise.

“Christ on a stick guys!” He shouted at the two of them, rolling his eyes, “It’s a disco, it’s a prank!” He looked between the two, arms crossing impatiently, “Veronica, bring whoever the fuck you want. Fuck them behind the building for all I care, just don’t fight anyone. Kurt stop being a jackass, bring along Chloe and admit you think of her more than a fuck-buddy and let Veronica come along.”

Kurt growled bitterly, looking at Veronica with that same ol’ drunkenness in his sky-blue eyes, “Fine.”

“Fine.” Veronica spat back with a bitter tone to her voice, “Asshole.”

Veronica approached the table, taking Kurt’s chair and almost swinging herself onto it, “So, what’s the plan?”

Ram sat down in the chair beside hers, Veronica smirking when Kurt made a distressed noise at the loss of his seating. Everybody shuffled over quietly as Ram picked up his pen drawing out the plan, “So what we’ll do is, the disco is from nine to two, okay? Plenty of people plan on sneaking in alcohol, so Andrew and his date are going to put the spiked punch in beer-bottles and say it’s alcohol.” Ram explained before circling a certain spot in the disco-room, “He and his date will spike the punch while nobody’s looking, and then we’ll cause a bit of a scene. Kev’ and his date are going to start shouting trash-talk in the middle of the dancefloor while we all sneak out to the locker-rooms. If anybody asks, our dates will say we’ve all gone outside for a smoke, and some of us to the bathroom.”

Ram flailed off his chair to grab something out of his bag and after a few rustling noises and bumps, he held up three spray-paint cans. A brow one, a white one and a dark-brown for the eyes, “Then, we’ll spray-paint a weasel onto the wall of their locker-rooms! We won’t write anything, so we don’t get caught, but they’ll know it was us.”

“But it’s a weasel.” Connor said, tapping his finger against the desk, “Wouldn’t they guess it’s us?”

“Yes, that’s the point. But the authorities don’t know it’s us. It’s just a weasel.” Veronica reminded him, “For all they know it’s some crazy-animal lover.”

Ram nodded in agreement with her statement and Kurt looked around the group, “So, any more ideas or objections?” He asked, cocking an eyebrow at everybody. Nobody said anything and he smirked, “Then you may return to your masturbation sessions.” He nudged Veronica, the alcohol wearing off and his drunken-memories fading, “and you’re intense threesome with two of the Heathers.” He made very inappropriate scissor movements with his fingers, “Oh Veronica! Veronica!” He said with a high-pitched voice.

“Shut up, Kurt.” Veronica mumbled, rolling her eyes, “Anybody, I’m going to grab some stuff down at 7/11, anybody coming with?”

“I will, why not?” Ram shrugged, “I haven’t been to a 7/11 for at least a year.” Ram stuffed the map and the plans into his bag, putting his letterman back on before nodding to Veronica, “Ready to go.”

Veronica pulled her jacket on a bit tighter, stretching her arms as she got up before nodding, “Let’s go then.” Leaving the locker-rooms quickly.

Like old times, she and Ram challenged each-other to a race across the football field, to see who could get across it first. Veronica was glad at least one of her sometimes insufferable friends could be a great friend at times. She needed that relief every once in a while, especially since the whole, ‘Heathers are fucking up life’ thing.

*~*

Veronica walked into the 7/11, looking around. There were aisles wherever she looked, all stocked to the brim with candy and slushees. Her stomach growled hungrily, and her wallet suddenly felt much more noticeable in her jean pockets. She wanted to buy everything and then stuff it down her throat.

“I forgot how stacked this place was.” Ram commented from her side, staring around the store in astonishment, “Look at this place!”

“I’m so fucking hungry.” Veronica muttered, looking at him, “Meet back here in ten minutes?”

Ram nodded and the two dashed off, Veronica to the junk-food aisle, Ram to the energy-drinks and alcohol section. Veronica scanned through the aisles, eventually picking up a bag of Skittles and red-vines. She turned to the windows so the employees couldn’t see her and ripped open the bag of skittles, beginning to eat away. The red-vines soon followed down her throat, and she popped another few skittles into her mouth.

“I forgot how good junk-food tasted.” She mumbled to herself through a mouth of sweet-tasting tack. She closed her eyes blissfully, enjoying the sweet taste of the sweets. She jerked back to life as she heard a low chuckle, and her eyes cast to the slushee-machines and she saw a young man standing in a large trench-coat, his hair cast over his eyes in a very emo-ish way.

“Those things will kill you.” He nodded to the skittles in her hand, and smirked when she held them close, “To be fair, they taste great, but not as good as slushees.” He held up his blue raspberry slushee, “Slushees are the signature item of 7/11’s it is mandatory you buy one before you leave.”

“I think I’ll pass.” Veronica shrugged on her jacket a bit, a bit uncomfortable under his gaze. There was just something in his tree-green eyes that was . . . psychotic. Crazy, insane, hungry and _powerful_. They locked onto her, refusing to let her out of their piercing gaze. She clutched the skittles a bit tighter, in an attempt to reveal stress, and a single droplet of sweat ran down her neck. She tried to soothe herself by reminding herself of the fact she was designed to beat the shit out of anyone in her way.

“I don’t take, ‘pass’ as an answer.” He replied firmly, furrowing his eyebrows and narrowing his eyes, “Did you want cherry or lime?” He turned to the machine, placing a coin beside it to pay for the staff. Veronica paused, thinking. She didn’t know this guy, for all she knew he could be seem creeper she’d get socially-slaughtered for talking to. Not to mention the Heathers would drop her, and her pining for Heather McNamara and Heather Chandler would become a struggle to deal with. Veronica cocked an eyebrow, “I didn’t ask for a slushee.” She smirked when the young man looked annoyed, pausing before saying, “Cherry.”

The man let out a sigh of relief, holding a cup under the machine and there was the soft, ‘whirr’ of the machine producing the cherry-flavoured melted ice. There was that pause, the only sound a few people checking out, Ram sliding open freezer-doors to examine their contents and the whirr of the machine. Veronica waited, hands in her pockets and head tilted slightly in fascination. Who was this kid? And why didn’t he cower before her like most?

The man turned, screwing on the cap of the slushee holder and handed it to her, “One cherry slushee.” He smiled at her politely, yet his eyes never lost that unsettling look to them. Veronica couldn’t help but flinch away after she got her slushee out of his hands. He seemed to savour watching her slurp down the contents. He opened his mouth, “Don’t drink so fast or you’ll Freeze Your-” He was cut off as Veronica grabbed on her temples slightly.

“Fuck me!”

The man laughed at her slightly, “Freeze Your Brain.”

“Haha, funny.” Veronica responded sarcastically, letting out a low growl of pain as the pain continued on, her mind going completely numb and focusing on the pain of the cold only, and nothing else mattered. As the pain faded away, she realized she didn’t even know this guy’s name, “Didn’t catch your name.”

“I didn’t throw it.” The guy replied with a flirtatious tone, and he smirked confidently as Veronica looked up at him with a, ‘don’t fuck with me I just got brain-freeze’ look, “Fine, I’ll break the tension. Jason Dean, JD for short. You’re Veronica Sawyer, the Heathers play-thing.”

“The Heathers Play Thing?” Veronica curled her lip in a scowl, “I’m not their play-thing.”

‘JD’ buried his hand into his pocket, pulling out a photo.

_Her spit lodged in her throat_.

The picture was of her and Heather McNamara, Heather McNamara pinned up against the back-wall. Her hands grasped Veronica’s head closely, while Veronica pinned the smaller girl by placing a hand either side of her. The two were locked at the lips, pressed against each-other fully. Heather McNamara’s eyes were almost closed, though looked to be struggling to stay open just so she could see Veronica.

“What the fuck.” Veronica grabbed at the photo, looking at it in disbelief before she looked up at JD, “You fucking creep! Why do you have this? So you can beat off every night?”

“No,” JD shrugged, eyes flickering with want, “Because I care.”

“You care? What the fuck do you mean?” Veronica gripped the photo and ripped it, throwing it on the floor and stomping at it angrily. JD looked at it, before back at her, a weak-smile on his face. He took a step closer to her, “I want to be your friend, that’s all. I’ll get rid of all the photos.” When Veronica backed away he frowned, “I know it’s weird that I took pictures, but I couldn’t help it. Nobody else knows, I promise. I burned all the others, but I want to keep one to show you.” He looked at his shoes, “I’m sorry. Really, sorry.”

“You don’t take pictures of people making-out, what the hell, dude!” Veronica exclaimed, but her sympathetic side shone out when JD looked away, looking extremely hurt, “Look, I’ll put it past if you burn any remaining evidence. And no more creep photos.”

JD nodded, “I understand. I just . . . I was . . .” He started, but couldn’t seem to finish, “I just saw Heather McNamara, and I took a photo. I used to be the school newspaper photographer for my old school. So whenever something big happens here, I feel the urge to take pictures.” He gulped, obviously nervous, “I’m sorry.”

“It’s . . . _fine_.” This _wasn’t_ fine. He had something to use against her and Heather McNamara. Why had he even been watching in the first place? Why was he there? Had he been following one of them? Had he simply been walking by? JD smiled at her politely, “I’m sorry I took a picture of you and Heather McNamara. It won’t happen again.”

“You say sorry a lot.” Veronica smiled at him kindly, even though she wanted to pin him to the wall and ask him why he thought it was a good idea to snap a picture of her and Heather. JD looked at his feet, shuffling them awkwardly, “You don’t need to say sorry.” She said to him calmly, “Just . . . don’t do it again.”

JD nodded before looking at her slushy, “Is the slushie good?”

“Yes, other than the fucking brain-freeze.” Veronica snickered a bit, swirling the slushy in her hand, “Thanks, by the way.”

“No problem.” JD shrugged, “I usually get friends slushies.”

“We’re friends?” Veronica said sarcastically, and JD blushed slightly, “I just met you, Mister Dean.”

“I’d like to be your friend, though.” JD took out a flip-phone, “Do you have a phone?”

“Sadly, no.” Veronica sighed but as JD put his phone away, “But I know the home-phone, if that’ll work.” JD nodded at that and handed her the phone. Veronica awkwardly cycled through things, unsure of what to do before the screen finally turned to, ‘Put in number here’ and put in the home-phone number.

“Thanks.” JD smiled taking his phone back and flicking a hand to another part of the store, “I think your fellow team-mate is waiting for you.” He said, nodding to Ram as Veronica turned to see the muscular jock standing by the check-out, a beer in hand and Mountain Dew in his other.

“Sorry.” She called to him, looking back over her shoulder at JD as she walked away, “Bye, JD.” She shouted over her shoulder, and he waved at her, turning back to his slushy’s.

“ _Sometimes I wish I had never stepped into that 7/11._ ”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *Eternally screaming*


	9. Competitions & Love

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Veronica goes to class like every other student, and Heather McNamara and Heather Chandler had a little spat.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well.
> 
> Hi.
> 
> I'm not dead, not yet anyway. And here's the next chapter of Wanted. 
> 
> Funny that after three weeks (a month maybe??) this took me only about three days to write. I had about six drafts of this chapter and I hated all of them except this one. And, for once *gasp*, I actually like this chapter. 
> 
> Anyway, hope you enjoy this!

**Chapter Nine:**

_Dear Diary,_

_So, it’s been a while since I’ve written in you. Bit of a catch-up, I’ve, ‘fallen in love’ with Heather Chandler and Heather McNamara. Surprising, I know, since I’ve written thousands of insults in past pages. They’re like tattoos for you, aren’t they? You can’t forget them, and they’re always there._

_You probably want to hear about today though. So I’ll share, I guess._

Veronica sat in class, tapping her pen on the table absent-mindedly. Mr. Hansen was rambling on about something she wasn’t bothered to listen to. Who knew what he could be talking about? Probably something about his former social-anxiety, or his wife, or maybe that one time he apparently wrote a letter to fake being friends with a dead-kid.

Who knew? Mr. Hansen rambled on about nothing most of the time.

“So you see-” Mr Hansen was instantly blocked out. But Veronica didn’t see anything. She saw only her thoughts dancing in front of her eyes. A Westerberg weasel on a wall, Ram and Kurt in front of it chortling away, the Razorback’s clubhouse going, ‘ _BOOM’_ in a cartoonish fashion and finally two blonds both of them arguing in gibberish.

She couldn’t help but stare at the blonds, and her jaw parted as the taller blond slapped the smaller one, who in response tackled her. A shadowy figure loomed over them, watching with it’s arm raised like it was timing them.

She gaped as the taller of the two stood up and approached the shadowy figure, yet once she blinked it was the shorter one. She tilted her head and blinked once more, and the short-blond became the taller-blond. Every time she blinked it would flicker over, until it paused on the taller one because her eyes hurt. The shadowy figure reached out a hand, and the taller-blond took it. Instinctively, Veronica blinked, and the blond’s were gone. Instead she was staring at the back of Ram Sweeney’s head.

A few people were sniggering but once she shot a glare their way they became quiet.

“Now, Miss. Sawyer, since you’ve come back to life, you wouldn’t care to tell us what you were thinking about?” Mr. Hansen looked directly her and her jaw parted so her mouth formed the shape of an, ‘o.’ How long had she been staring at Ram in thought?

“I-” She began but she was cut off as someone yelled at the back of the classroom.

“She was probably thinking of one of the Heathers, sir!” Was that Courtney? It was. That low-life son of a-

“Now Courtney, you know I don’t care for student gossip.” Mr. Hansen tutted Courtney who only snorted in laughter- but she didn’t say anything else, “Now, Miss Sawyer, what _were_ you thinking about?”

“Um . . .” What class was she in? English, and they were talking about . . . writing? “Shakespeare?” She said unsurely, and Mr. Hansen gave her a bemused, knowing smile of, ‘I know you must’ve been thinking of something else.’ However all he said was,

“So you _were_ listening in. Good.” Mr. Hansen nodded, giving her a slight wink that indicated he knew she was lying, “So, tell me, Veronica, what’s your favourite book by Shakespeare?”

“Um . . . it’s between Richard The Third and Othello.” Mr Hansen looked amazed at her answer, eyebrows raising, eyes widening and a smile tugging at his lips.

“Interesting, most people would default to Romeo and Juliet,” He nodded, “Why do you like them?”

“Well I like Othello, because at the end of the day Othello was only fuelled by jealousy and passion. He loved his wife, and when he found out she might be cheating, he was so heartbroken it disguised itself as jealousy,” She gulped as continued, “And I liked Richard The Third because it’s a generally interesting story, a twisted main character who always impresses you with his intelligence.”

Mr Hansen nodded again and looked around the classroom, “Now, can anybody else give me that detailed of a description for why they liked Romeo and Juliet.”

Silence.

“Thought so.” Mr Hansen smiled and looked at Veronica, “Impressive, by the way, Sawyer. I know who’ll get an A+.”

Veronica flushed over slightly and muttered out a, “Thank you.” Shuffling her feet slightly as she felt the eyes of everybody on her.

She heard a few people murmuring behind her, and the words, “Nerd, a heather?, Loser and Goody-Two-Shoes” were all she heard. She clenched her fists, and her shoes braced themselves on the floor.

“Quiet in the classroom, unless you care to contribute to our debate.” Mr. Hansen called out to the people murmuring, “Now, I’ve got the books we’ve been assigned to read,” The class groaned, “Oh I know. The pain is just horrible, isn’t it?” a few people chortled, “And your homework here. Since we’re a bit early for the bell, you can start on it now.” Ram let out an audible noise of joy.

Ram wasn’t, ‘bad’ at homework. In fact, when he tried he could get a B+. He had made Veronica swear to not tell anyone, of course. A jock shouldn’t be able to do his homework. As said, he wasn’t, ‘bad’ at homework. He just didn’t try most of the time, or he didn’t do it because he was off at some party, had training or was just hanging out with his friends. He always had some nerd to do his homework for him in case he couldn’t do it, and if said nerd was out, he’d beg Veronica for her answers.

However, Veronica had seen Ram’s History homework, and he had mainly aced it. Which was impressive, for a jock who pretended to be a clueless idiot about everything other than sex, drink and drugs.

As soon as Ram got his homework, he had his pen at it, determined to have it done before the bell so that he wouldn’t have to worry about it. Veronica chuckled a bit and he cast a playful glare over his shoulder, which she returned.

“I don’t look weird, do I?” Ram murmured to her, fiddling with his pencil awkwardly.

“No, just play it off that you had somewhere to go tonight, and that’s the reason you were trying so hard.” Veronica murmured back to him.

“Thanks, Ron.” Ram smiled happily, and returned to his homework.

“Any time, Ram.” Veronica stared down as the homework was placed on her desk. It was some basic-ass questions on Shakespeare for at least a page, but when she turned it over it revealed a hardcore, ‘Book review’ page.

_What’s your favourite book?_

_Why?_

_What’s your least favourite book?_

_Why?_

_What do you think the hidden message behind your favourite book is?_

_Why did the villain do what they did?_

_Do you notice an period-typical ideals?_

_Now that you have answered the past questions, fill in this paragraph for why you liked your favourite book:_

And then there was about three-quarters of a page of lines. _Just_ , lines.

Veronica let out a low groan, and began to fill in the basic questions on the first page. She looked at the book that the class had been assigned to read. As expected, it was a Shakespeare book. Thankfully one that had all the – most – of the old English edited out and replaced with modern-English. She looked at the Title of the book, ‘King Lir.’ And the cover was an old man with long, white hair clutching his face and sobbing. A woman stood behind him, a grim look on her face.

“ _Oh wonderful! A depressing novel, that’s what I need right now._ ” Veronica thought with a fake chipper-smile on her face.

As expected somebody who looked mildly concerned about the cover raised their hand and Mr. Hansen turned to them and nodded to give them permission to speak, “Should I be scared about the fact the cover is dark-blue and has two depressing-looking characters on the front of it?”

“Don’t worry, it’s just Shakespeare.” Mr. Hansen put on a smile that Veronica knew all too well. It was a, ‘I’m lying, you couldn’t be more than right.’

Veronica had the first page done when the bell rang and everybody scrambled to put their books and pencil-cases away. Ram thrusted his fist into the air, and Mr. Hansen gave him an amused look, “Done already, Ram?”

“Nope! But only half of the whole write out a book-report thing!” Ram chortled as if he had been told a funny joke, but nobody had said a thing to him.

Veronica shot him an envious look, “Lucky. I’m only on ‘why did the villain do what they do’ part.” And Ram pointed a finger at her and let out an obnoxious, sarcastic, ‘haha!’ and Veronica threw a rubber his way. He let out a dramatic screech and pretended to fall off his chair.

Mr. Hansen chuckled a bit at the two of them, “Come on you two. You’re going to miss lunch if you keep messing around.”

Ram scrunched up his nose at the word choice, but hopped up quickly, grabbing his bag and pointing at Veronica, “I, Ram Kimberly Sweeney, challenge you, Veronica Sawyer, to a running race from here to the cafeteria!”

“You’re on.” Veronica smirked, grabbing her bag and pointing back and putting her feet shoulder-width apart, “I accept your challenge, Ram Kimberly Sweeney! Last one there has to take double portions of the potato!” She turned and ran towards the classroom door, hearing Ram yell,

“Hey! That’s cheating! You didn’t tell me we were going!” before she heard the squeak of his red converse as he chased after her.

~

“I,” _Pant_ , “Veronica Sawyer,” _Pant_ , “Seem to have def,” _Pant_ , “eated you Ram Sweeney.” Veronica gasped out, hands on her knees, as Ram tumbled into the cafeteria beside her.

She pointed at him as he tumbled in through the doors, “You have to take double portions of the potato, _bitch_!” She said triumphantly.

“No f-fair!” Ram grumbled in reply, “I-I was so close, and then that idiot got in the way!”

“You lost,” Veronica gave him a gentle, fake smack, “Deal with it kiddo.”

“’Kiddo’?” Ram tilted his head, an amused smile on his face, “I’m older than you.”

“Nobody needs to know that.” Veronica replied jokingly, sticking out her tongue slightly, “Anyway, I think your boyfriends calling you.” She indicated to Kurt beckoning Ram over.

“No homo, bro.” Ram and Veronica said in unison, “But seriously, he’s not my boyfriend.” Ram punched Veronica in the shoulder, “So quit it, or I’ll tell him. And you remember how he responded to being called gay before, right?”

“Please don’t.” Veronica remembered how bloody that poor freshman’s face had been after Kurt was done with him and flinched.

“I won’t.” Ram stretched his legs slightly, “Seeya, Ron.” He saluted the brunette and strolled over to the jock’s table. Veronica turned to the Heathers table, pacing over to it. She shakily waved as Heather McNamara looked up and beamed happily, while Heather Chandler smirked and sent her a seductive look. Heather Duke rolled her eyes and mouthed something, ‘they’ve been arguing again’ making Veronica groan and panic slightly. What had they been fighting over?

“And here we are, the ‘fourth Heather’ herself.” Veronica looked to her right, where a tour-guide for some foreign exchange students was pointing at her, “Also known as Veronica, everybody is currently warring over whether or not she’s dating Heather Chandler or Heather McNamara. I personally think it’s Heather Chandler.”

One of the foreign exchange students spoke, having a thick accent, “But didn’t you say Heather Chandler was a, ‘mythic bitch with a cold, iron fist’?” The tour-guide sputtered and quickly said,

“I meant that sarcastically, obviously.”

“It’s okay, Dennis.” Veronica chuckled lightly, “Everybody knows she is.” She held her finger to her lip, in a, ‘shush.’

Dennis smirked and tipped an imaginary hat at her, “Thank you for defending me.”

“Any time, governor.” Veronica put on a thick British accent and tipped her imaginary hat back, and continued on throughout the cafeteria.

A few cat-calls came her way as she approached the Heathers table. She blocked them out and sat down beside Heather McNamara – as per usual – and waited for one of the Heathers to greet her. In unison Heather Chandler and Heather McNamara both said, “Hi,” Heather McNamara smiling happily and Heather Chandler smirking like always.

“Was that idiot Dennis bothering you?” Heather Duke asked, picking at her nails impatiently, “He bothered me as well.”

“No, he and I are old friends. He was just introducing me to those foreign kids.” Veronica shrugged, “Nothing more than that.”

“Strange, that we got so many foreign kids in this year.” Heather McNamara commented, “I mean, we get them in every year, but never in fives or sixes. It’s always just one or two kids from England, Ireland or Spain.”

“Maybe Ohio’s become a hotspot over there? Some place you just _have_ to go to!” Heather Chandler shrugged, “If that’s the reason, they’re very wrong. Sherwood is a shithole.” 

“We should spraypaint, ‘Shithole’ on all the ‘Welcome to Sherwood’ signs.” Veronica smiled innocently, “Let everybody who’s coming in know what they’re in for.”

All the Heathers laughed a bit at this – well Heather McNamara giggled, but the most you could get from here was a giggle – and Heather Duke piped up, “We should go to a local tour-guide spot, take all the maps, and change it from, ‘Sherwood’ to, ‘Shithole’.”

“We’ll become known throughout Sherwood as the, ‘people who keep renaming the place shithole’.” Heather Chandler joined in.

“We’ll just watch the tourist rate,” Heather McNamara did a diving action with her left hand, “ _Drop_.”

“Well it’s not that bad of a shithole.” Veronica said after a few moments of silence, “The Steak ‘N Shakes are good.”

“And some of the waterparks are alright.” Heather Duke murmured in defeat.

“And the nature-parks are pretty.” Heather McNamara squeaked out unsurely, as if worried somebody might snap at her.

“And I guess some of the people are hot.” Heather Chandler shrugged, “Okay, maybe it’s not that big of a shithole.”

Heather Duke fake coughed, saying, “Veronica,” in the middle of it. Heather Chandler and Heather McNamara both turned on her, and Duke ducked away as Heather Chandler went to slap her, and let out a yelp as Heather McNamara audibly kicked her under the table. Duke let out a groan as she clutched at her leg, “What the fuck, Heather!”

Veronica chuckled at the trio, rolling her eyes, “Relax, guys, honestly.”

“Never!” Heather McNamara declared, kicking Veronica in the shin. The blue-girl let out a loud yelp and held her shin before kicking Heather McNamara in return. Heather McNamara cried out and dramatically faked tears.

Heather Chandler scoffed and rolled her eyes, “Grow up, Heather.”

“Sorry, Heather.” Heather McNamara muttered, and Veronica reached her arm over, wrapping it around her shoulders and feeling the tiny-blond tense at the contact. Veronica pulled her close and let her nuzzle into her shoulder.

“Hey, it’s okay. I’m sorry.” Veronica muttered to her, trying to ignore the fuming Heather Chandler who was glaring at the two of them.

Heather McNamara wrapped her arms around Veronica, and Veronica took a moment to simply enjoy how close she was to Heather McNamara. Enjoy the smell of lemon, lime and bubble-gum that came from her. Enjoy the softness of her skin, the softness of her hands which were clutching at her desperately.

Then it ended as the two of them pulled away from each-other. Heather McNamara blushed, but Veronica crossed her arms on the table and leaned forward.

It had been nothing- a quick embrace at most. But something about it obviously annoyed Heather, as the red-girl narrowed her eyes and glared at Heather McNamara before she reached her hand over and placed it on Veronica’s arm in retaliation. Heather McNamara let out an audible noise of annoyance, and her baby-blue eyes tried to burn holes through where the other Heather and Veronica connected.

“So, Veronica,” Heather breathed, rubbing circles into Veronica’s arm as the blue-girl tensed up and choked out a noise, “How has your day been so far?”

“F-Fine.” Veronica grumbled in response, seeing Duke cocking an eyebrow at the two and smirking slightly.

“That’s good,” Heather smiled confidently, even though she was being demonized by Heather McNamara, “Can we meet up after school?”

“All of us,” Heather Duke interjected, and Veronica had never been more thankful.

“No not all of us you dip-” Heather Chandler began but was cut off by Heather McNamara’s bitter-sweet toned voice.

“Why not, Heather?” Heather McNamara crooned innocently, though her eyes were dark with envy and hate. Heather Chandler curled her lip at her, and Heather Duke intervened once more before a fight could break out.

“How about we all meet up at some shitty fast-food place? We can discuss . . .” Duke paused, biting the insides of her cheeks as she tried to decide what to say, “Stuff. . . school stuff.”

 “Yeah . . . ‘school stuff’.” Heather Chandler and Heather McNamara said unison. Veronica choked a bit and pulled her arms away from Heather Chandler, before she stood up.

“I-I need to g-go.” Veronica stumbled out of her seat and marched away from the table as the Heathers called after her. A few people yeed her, while other’s mumbled and all she caught of these small conversations was, ‘She’s such an asshole.’ Or, ‘She needs to just fucking choose.’

Veronica hoped her distress wasn’t obvious as she pushed out of the cafeteria doors and marched towards the main-bathrooms.

~

Veronica sat on the edge of the sink. Nobody else was in the bathroom as Veronica had yelled to, “Get the _fuck_ out!” and freshmen girls had gone scrambling to get out of the bathroom before they were yelled at.

Veronica held her face in her hands, and let out a pathetic whimper. She leaned back on her hands slightly as she looked up at the dirty-ceiling of the bathrooms and muttered to herself, “Why the fuck do I even try?” Her hands balling into the fists as she launched forward and punched a stall-door, watching it swing and bang off the side of the stall.

“Fucking _bitches_!” She yelled angrily, “Both of ‘em! I bet they don’t even want any of this. They either fucking feel bad or they’re just toying with me because they’re bitches, assholes, bastards, whores, sluts and cock-suckers!” She vented angrily.

“I bet they’re just toying with me! I bet they’re just trying to out-do each-other.” Veronica kicked the door when it swung back and cried out and gripped her foot when the door fought back for a second.

Veronica gripped the hem of her leather-jacket, and tore it over her shoulders, staring at it as it crumpled to the floor.

“Veronica?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay: heads up, I'll only ~try~ to update before a month is over. I want to apologize for the extreme delays on this chapter. I'm not going to be one of those people who have a great fanfic they update every three months. 
> 
> Y'all are like the best, the amount of love I get for this trash-fic is astonishing.
> 
> Also my favourite comment, "I had a dream... that Wanted updated... then I woke up. ;)" like *wipes tear* beautiful. 
> 
> ANYWAY: As always:  
> Team McNamayer or Team Chansaw?


	10. Old Friends & Fast-Food Places

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Reconciliation with a best friend, and Steak 'N Shake meetups that could possibly turn deadly.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> "I'll update before a month is over." She said, "It'll be great." She said. LIES
> 
> Anyway: once more I'd like to apologize for leaving empty promises wherever I go. Life has been an asshole recently between having school end, to having to rebuild my social-life, parents putting pressure on me. I will finish this fic, whether the Heathers fandom is dead or not by the time it's finished doesn't even matter anymore.
> 
> ANYWAYS: Another announcement, a commenter brought to my attention the whole, 'Stage' thing was never built/slipped in correctly. Looking back it feels forced af and it's never explained. I personally have my own way of dealing with it in my head, but you as the readers should get your say as well. Should I simply remove the stage or post a full explanation on it? I'm fully prepared to go back and edit any mentions of it out, or write a full explanation either way.
> 
> Thank you and sorry for this being a very long-ish note, but anyway:  
> On with the show...

**Chapter Ten:**

Veronica spun around, eyes dark with anger and lips curled slightly. Her fists were balled and held in front of her, and her leather-jacket was still crumpled on the floor by the sink. Her knuckles were already split slightly from punching the stall-doors, and her knuckles were white from her straining them. Her toes still stung from kicking the door too hard. The stall-door was still swinging, occasionally tapping against the wall.

Her breaths were laboured from launching herself around the place and throwing herself at bathroom-stall doors, but they were quickly steadying out.

She paused before she realized who is was she was looking at, staring at the person as her scowl turned into an, ‘o.’ Her fists lowered, falling at her sides, and she choked out a, “Hey.” She felt blood return to her knuckles, and she hoped she looked somewhat representable.

“Hey.” The person replied shakily, eyes widened, “Uh, you okay? I saw some freshmen running away from here, and came to check what was up.”

“No, I just murdered some poor fucker, because I’m mentally ill.” Veronica responded bitterly, eyes still narrowed slightly.

“Such a comedian,” The person crossed their arms, “And here I was thinking the Heathers would’ve stomped everything out of you until you were some preppy, goody-two shoes, non-virgin, stoner girl.”

Veronica let out a fake laugh, “Yeah right, I mean, look at me,” She put both her hands on her hips in a joking confident pose, “I’m much too masculine for that.” She flexed for emphasis.

“Oh totally, Miss Feminist of the year.” The person smirked, and rolled her eyes, “So, so, so masculine!”

“I mean, I play for the football team, and I don’t wear skirts, or dress . . . like, _ever_.” Veronica replied, shrugging her shoulders, “Is that not masculine enough?”

“I recall you wearing an adorable denim-skirt in kindergarten,” The person recalled, smirking as Veronica flushed over, “But then again, you did complain about it all day and try to switch your skirt for Ram’s sweatpants. And you almost made him cry because he came back from the toilet to find his precious sweatpants replaced with a skirt.”

“I remember that, him coming out, wailing to the teacher that somebody stole his pants,” Veronica chuckled slightly, “Martha rushed forward and offered to help him, giving him a peck on the cheek.”

“Which Duke retched at.” The person laughed slightly, “Habits start early don’t they?”

“Oh come on,” Veronica punched the other person’s shoulder slightly, “Surely the one and only _Betty Finn_ is above teasing people about eating disorders?”

Betty Finn. The, ‘nerd-hipster’ of the campus, even though she listened to Madonna, Michael Jackson and Nirvana and had more Madonna albums than Heather McNamara, which was some stunt. Veronica guessed the main reason she was called a, ‘nerd’ was because of her large, orange glasses and – while today she wore it in a frizzy pony-tail – her hair was usually in pigtails, though she was slowly growing out of the habit. She still had braces, though she was scheduled to have them taken out at the end of the year as her teeth were perfectly straight now.

Veronica, in a completely platonic way, thought Betty was just an unadmired beauty. She had brunette hair with blond, natural highlights. She had oddly golden-brown eyes with an even lighter brown rim around their pupils – if you got close enough.

Maybe Betty could’ve been beautiful in another world, where she wasn’t fitted into a category as soon as she stepped foot onto Westerberg-grounds.

Alas, that was not how the world turned out, and Betty was left on the sidelines, except for the occasional person or two.

“Am I? Am I _really_?” Betty Finn rolled her eyes, “I mean, everybody else does it, why can’t I?”

“Because you’re a good person?” Veronica suggested, Betty scoffing slightly.

“‘A good person’? Yeah right.” Betty snorted, “My mind is dirtier than a gutter.”

Veronica couldn’t argue with her on that one, Betty was fairly-dirty-minded. Actually, fairly was an understatement. One time, an ad had come on the car’s radio and the marketer had said, “Lubrication.” Betty had been riding in the backseat and almost choked on her own spit as she tried not to make a joke in front of Veronica’s dad.

“Anyway,” Betty rocked back and forth on the balls of her feet and her heels, “Why were you viscously attacking the stall-door? Did it not lock and some freshman had walked in on you?”

“No, I was just angry at-” Veronica paused, “I was angry at someone.”

“ _Someone_?” Betty wondered, leaning slightly and Veronica blushed, “Did Heather Chandler or McNamara tell you they didn’t want you in their pants today?”

Veronica choked and spluttered, “No! I’m still a virgin!”

“Oh sure! With Heather McNamara and Chandler after you?” Betty Finn waggled her eyebrows, “This may sound creepy, but if I had one of them after me, I’d be banging them senseless.”

“So would the rest of the school, so we’ll just ignore the creepiness of that comment.” Veronica scoffed and rolled her eyes, “But, no, I’m still a virgin.”

“Why though?” Betty cocked her head to the side slightly, “Surely one of them have _tried_?”

Veronica blushed, and Betty cocked an eyebrow, “Taking that as a yes then.”

“I just- I don’t think I’m ready, y’know? I’ve only known them for a month at the most, and,” Veronica paused, taking a deep breath and exhaling, “And fuck me it’s difficult when you fall in love.”

Betty paused, eyes widening and jaw dropping, “ _What_?” Betty paused, “With . . . with the _Heathers_? I thought this was some practical joke!”

“Yes with the Heathers,” Veronica grumbled under her breath, “That’s why they flirt with me constantly, and I choke if they do the slightest thing.”  

“That explains . . . a lot.” Betty murmured, eyes wide and voice breathless in shock, “Why they even let you in the group in the first place, after holding down the little ‘there’s only three of us’ shit for years, why they constantly flirt with you and why you even bother hanging out with them.” Betty sighed and rolled her neck, “You always loved putting yourself in stupid situations.”

“Hey, I didn’t choose-”

“The Heather life, the Heather life chose me.”

“Betty, _please_ ,” Veronica scoffed and Betty chuckled but beckoned with her hand that she could continue, “Had I known what would happen, I would’ve never joined them! Maybe I would’ve ended up with somebody else.”

“Yeah . . . Heather Duke.” Betty waggled her eyebrows and Veronica flushed over, “Oh come on! She’s totally into you too!”

“Hardy, har, har.”

“The Heathers can’t get enough of Veronica Sawyer.”

“No. They. Can’t.” Veronica and Betty laughed for a bit, and the it felt like they had never broken off their friendship, had never stopped hanging out because their friends demanded they not be friends with each-other. Alas, that wasn’t what happened.

Betty had gotten involved with a few rough people, who demanded that she, ‘Not hang with Veronica because you’ll tell her some secret and everything will go shit!’ and Veronica had, of course, been told by the Heathers to stop hanging out with that, ‘Stoner nerd-hipster, we’ve got reputations to preserve.’ And alas, they had distanced over a short amount of time.

“But who do you think you’ll end up with? Heather McNamara’s been through some harsh break-ups, especially her latest one, they just fought a lot and. . .” Betty gulped slightly, and shuddered, “and she just . . . broke things off with the person she was with. So, who do you think you’ll be with by the end of it?”

“I . . . I don’t know. It’s impossible to tell, y’know?” Veronica sighed, and leaned her head back, “And there’s no way to stop myself. I’m going to sound batshit insane, but it’s like there’s this part of me that just constantly wants them.”

“I mean, I thought I had found someone who loved me,” Betty sighed and leaned her head back, “And then . . . y’know.”

Betty had met this really sweet person. The two flounced around the hallways, the person’s hand on her shoulder, hugging her close and the two of them laughing at whatever ridiculous joke either came up with. They had been closer than close, went on fancy little dates together, went to any dances or clubs they could get into and were always there on the dot if one of them started crying.

But then the incident happened.

The person had been walking down the street, hands in their pockets and apparently listening to their Walkman, jamming out to some tune. When suddenly they were stopped. They were asked if they knew where Lee Burr was, an avid drug-user and the person’s friend (though the person themselves never did any drugs, and only smoked at parties). They had answered no but apparently they had been yelled at before the person who had stopped them pulled a gun on them. They had tried to reason but before they could make the gunman see reason, Betty’s love interest had been shot dead on the streets for something they didn’t want to be apart of.

Betty had been distraught, and had rushed to the scene of the crime as soon as word had gotten to her about the incident.

But there was no hope in saving the person. They had been shot straight through the mouth, there eyes already rolled to the back of their head and blood was oozing out of their mouth by the time police had arrived. The suspect was only a few blocks away and had been arrested on sight.

Betty found the occasional person who made her happy, but she was currently single. Veronica just hoped she’d find someone who was close enough to her type who’d make her happy.

“You didn’t deserve it Betty, neither did they.” Veronica walked over to pull Betty into a quick hug, rubbing her shoulder as best she could, letting Betty take shaky breaths into her shoulder.

“Fuck, I’m welling up,” Betty pulled back slightly, taking her glasses off to dab at her eyes with the hem of her shirt, “Sorry. Just, still can’t believe it happened . . .”

“I’m sure they’ll be proud of you, whether you choose to remain single forever, or if you choose to get married to someone else. They’ll _always_ love you.” Veronica smiled at Betty slightly, “Watching from . . . wherever.”

“Yeah,” Betty nodded slightly, voice raspy, “Yeah they would be proud. Sometimes, I just wonder, if they hadn’t been shot . . . would we still be a thing? Or would we have broken things off . . .?”

“It’d be pretty weird if you broke things off with the person you got along with so well, so you’d probably still be a thing,” Veronica shrugged, “You two were head over heels for each-other, so there’s no way you would’ve broken things off.”

Betty smiled slightly, “Maybe you’ll be like that with one of the Heathers? Show up to class late with dishevelled clothes and messy hair? Lipstick smeared across your face and neck?” Betty waggled her eyebrows and Veronica blushed slightly, “Knowing you, you’ll be missing a sock.”

“Oh, shut up.” Veronica punched Betty’s shoulder slightly, “I’m not _that_ desperate.”

“Are you?”

No answer.

Veronica sighed slightly and checked her watch, “I’m late for class.”

“So am I, but am I trying to get out of a conversation with an old friend I haven’t talked to for . . . two months now?” Betty pretended to be offended, placing a hand over her heart and pulling her lips back, “Joking. But you can run ahead, I was planning on staying in here until gym was over.”

“Ooo! Betty Finn, bunking off class, are we?” Veronica put on a mock-shock face, eyes widening and eyebrows.

“Nah, told one of my friends to tell coach I had a heavy period.” Betty shrugged, “Made up some sob story that it hurts so badly I can barely walk straight, so there’d be no chance of me running.”

“Ah, the old, ‘I’m on my period’ excuse.” Veronica nodded, stroking an invisible beard, “Very good, very good! You are learning. Welcome to the Dark Side, Betty Finn, muhahaha!”

“Comedy. Gold.” Betty Finn forced out a laugh that made her sound she like she was dying, slapping her knee and tilting her head back.

“Okay, okay, you got your point across.” Veronica waved her off, huffing slightly, “Anyway, seeya Betty! Talk to you later?” Veronica saluted her slightly, beginning to back up slightly towards the door.

“Sure, if you can get out of two Heathers flirting with you.” Betty winked at her and Veronica rolled her eyes, “But sure.” Betty smiled and waved her off, “Seeya Sawyer.”

“Seeya Betty.” Veronica nodded and left the bathroom turning into the empty halls and making her way to history, which she was already at least ten minutes late for.

She’d ask Heather Duke – who shared History with her this period – for the notes from the start of the class, if she had bothered to take them down.

Veronica let out a long, suffering sigh.

>>><<< 

Veronica ran a comb through her hair, watching herself in the mirror as she did so. She was getting ready for the da- meetup between her and the Heathers. She made the collar of her leather-jacket was fixed up, and that her jeans weren’t too tight or too loose. Her eyes scanned over herself, making sure she looked perfect. She knew Duke would chastise her if she wasn’t fixed up properly, Heather Chandler would cringe slightly and Heather McNamara would look around to make sure nobody important was around.

Funny, that she knew how to read the Heather’s body language.

She ran the comb through her hair once more, and once she had done that ran her hand through her hair. She shrugged on her leather-jacket and nodded to herself in the mirror. It looked casual, yet not too casual that it looked like she had just thrown on anything that came into her sight. Just . . . satisfactory.

She reached for her wallet, making sure she’d have enough money to pay for any of her friends who had forgotten (‘forgotten’) their money. She grabbed the necklace that Heather McNamara had gotten her.

It was a beauty. If it had no accessories to it, it would be a plain, silver owl. Instead it was a beautiful, diamond-studded owl. It glimmered in the light, reflecting it back onto whoever glanced it. Heather McNamara had begged her dad to get her it for Veronica after only two weeks of knowing her. Her dad had eventually relented, and when Veronica had went to thank him he had simply said, “Oh don’t bother. It was easy enough to get.” But he still held a smile, obviously pleasantly surprised by her manners. Heather McNamara had asked to help her put it on, and Veronica had allowed her- thinking nothing of it at the time. Now, Veronica wondered if it was just platonic, or something more.

She then reached for the bracelet Heather Chandler had given her (“You still can’t accessorize for shit”). It was an amazing piece of work. It was still plain silver, but it had, ‘Veronica Sawyer’ engraved into it. It, too, had two diamonds studded into it, one either side of her name. Heather had gotten it for her three weeks into their, ‘‘friendship’’ and had waved it off when Veronica said thank you, saying bluntly, “It was nothing, really.” But she had smiled at how delighted Veronica was with it. Just like with Heather McNamara, Veronica wondered if Chandler getting her this bracelet was platonic. Or was it more than that?

Veronica sighed and put both of them on, just as her mother called, “Ron! Do you need a lift to the meetup, or are one of your, ahem, ‘friends’,” That made Veronica blush, “Going to pick you up?”

“Yeah, Heather _Duke_ is picking me up.” Veronica called back.

“Okay, do you know when she’s going to be here? Or do you need to give her a call?” Her mother called back.

“Nah, she told me.”

“When’s she going to be here?”

“In between quarter past five and half past five.” Veronica replied as she reached for her shoes, “So, soon.”

“And she’s giving you a ride back?”

“Yep.”

“Okay then.”

Veronica rolled her eyes at her mother’s protectiveness, as she shovelled on her LA Gear’s. She checked her watch- it would be five minutes before the scheduled time Duke planned to arrive on. She sighed, and looked at herself again in the mirror. Did she need to do anything? She thought back in her head. No.

Veronica was almost frightened at the fact she had five whole free minutes, that she could do nothing with. She’d done everything to get ready for the meetup, and yet she couldn’t help but feel like she was wasting precious time as she sat on her bed, staring at the wall. Thinking back on it, she didn’t think she’d had proper free-time since she joined the Heathers. Every day was spent either trying to entertain them or making sure she looked up to the high standards they had set as soon as she joined. Or fretting over Heather McNamara and Heather Chandler.

God.

That was . . . scary, to say the least.

She looked around her room. She had a few books she hadn’t finished yet, maybe she could get in a few minutes of reading? She reached over for one of her books, one with a red-cover and a name she really didn’t recognize. She quickly read over the blurb, trying to remember what the story had been about so far, and how much she know about what was going on.

She flicked to the page she was on – about halfway through the book – and began to read along. She soon began to remember what was going on in the book. As far as she knew, the main character wasn’t from the world she was living in, she’d been told by somebody that she was much more important than she could possibly imagine, her boyfriend had ran way into the mountains and rebels had risen up. And this was only the first book in a trilogy apparently.

She wondered why she ever put the book down.

She read right up to the point where the main character had arranged to meet with the rebels, and was marching there, comrades by her side before she heard a honk from outside. She sat up, grabbed anything else she needed before her mother called upstairs, “Ron! Duke’s outside in her jeep!”

Veronica ran down the stairs, trying not to fall and break her neck as she did so, and ran to the door calling out, “Bye mom!” As Duke let out another impatient, ear-splitting honk. She rolled her eyes and took off outside the door, ignoring her mother who called out what time to be back by and what not do (“Heather and Heather!”)

As the door slammed behind Veronica, Veronica’s Momrested her elbow on the counter, resting her chin in her hand and sighing, “Teenagers these days.”

>>><<< 

Veronica and Duke pulled up to the Steak ‘N Shake, noticing it was rather empty. There was only about six cars – not including Duke’s jeep – in the carpark, and there was always the possibility the employees owned one of the cars.

“We’re here,” Duke almost grunted and looked over at Veronica, “Try not to end up fucking one of our friends in the bathroom stalls.”

Veronica blushed, “I wouldn’t-”

“But they would.” Duke said, smirking at Veronica who became flustered, “I mean, they’re basically fighting over who gets to take your virginity.” Veronica choked and, as she sputtered, straightened up in her seat. Duke cocked an eyebrow at her, a smile spreading across her face. Veronica looked at her, “Like I’d let them take my v-virginity in a fucking _Steak N’ Shake_ bathroom.” She crossed her arms.

Duke looked out the windshield, “Who knows what seductive antics they could get up to?”

“‘Seductive antics’?” Veronica scoffed slightly, rolling her eyes, “I doubt they’d start trailing kisses up and down my neck in front of each-other. That would end in the biggest catfight I’d have ever seen.”

Duke cocked an eyebrow, “There’s plenty of other ways, y’know,” Duke smirked, leaning over to Veronica, “Maybe they’ll press against you and start grinding slightly against your side, maybe they’ll pretend to whisper something in your ear but all it is is dirty little secrets about what they want you to do to them in bed,” Duke smirked slightly, a spark lighting up in her eyes as Veronica blushed over, “Maybe they’ll get you so worked up you’ll start running your hands up their thighs. And they’ll shudder at your every touch, and then you can’t help it anymore. They’re just too sexy. You run your hand right up their skirt and slip it under their panties and get to w-”

Veronica covered her ears, making a noise of distress, “Shut up!” hearing Duke continue on the sentence. She didn’t want to hear whatever vulgar language came out of her mouth. She shut her eyes tightly, though all that came to mind was Heather McNamara writhing under her or Heather Chandler gasping and moaning. _Fuck_.

A thought that took her mind off of these sinful thoughts was the fact Duke was able to explain how the Heathers would react when you ran a hand up their thigh. Did . . . did she know something that Veronica didn’t? Did something happen between her and the-

As she pondered over this Veronica had taken her hands off her ears and all of a sudden Duke’s voice was loud again, “And then they’ll clench around your fingers, trying not to make a noise, while the other one glares bitterly at you two.” Duke finished her sentence with a cocked eyebrow and her tongue sticking out between her teeth.

“Oh come on, be quiet!” Veronica whined like a kid.

“Never.” Duke looked triumphant in successfully making Veronica uncomfortable beyond belief before dipping out of the car, Veronica following her soon after, checking one last time that she had everything. Duke, however, was gone, sashaying over to the Steak ‘N Shake. Veronica slammed the passenger door the car shut and ran after the green-girl.

Duke was already at the door by the time Veronica caught up, standing beside her and panting slightly, “What the fuck how are you that fast?” Veronica rasped out slightly, eyes wide and staring at the green-clad girl. Duke just smirked at her cocked an eyebrow and shrugged, before looking into the fast-food place.

“Are they here yet?” Veronica grumbled through her breathless pants, and Duke shook her head.

“Nope, come on,” Duke pushed through the doors, and Veronica stumbled in after her.

A woman wearing a black trimmed apron awaited them through the doors, a smile on her face. She was young, probably only twenty and had blond hair that resembled Heather McNamara’s. Her eyes were a golden-brown, stunning. She was small, maybe five-foot four and she was rocking back and forth on the balls of her feet.

Duke looked at her, placing her hand on her hip in expectancy. The woman smiled at the two and grabbed two menues, “What can I do for you today?”

“Table for four, the other two will be coming later.” Duke said with a demanding tone to her voice. The woman kept her smile on and nodded her head. She took out a small notebook and looked at Duke, “What are their names so I can make sure they get their seats?”

“Heather Chandler and Heather McNamara.” Duke responded, looking across the fast-food place.

“Thank you, now if you could just follow me to your seats.” The woman guided them across the fast-food place to the table they were to sit at. Duke took one side of the table and Veronica the other, the woman placing the menus in front of them.

“Once your friends arrive I’ll come over to see if you’re ready to order.” The woman dipped her head slightly and turned, marching off. Duke rolled her eyes and pushed the menu aside. Veronica read through hers, though she knew she’d only take the usual. As always. She looked up at Duke and couldn’t help but notice she wasn’t even looking at the menu, “You not going to order anything?”

“What’s the point, I’ll only end up purging into the toilet again.” Duke rolled her eyes and moved the menu even farther away, “I’ll just get a milkshake.” Veronica felt concern but didn’t pressure the subject. She doubted it was appropriate to bring it up now.

“So,” Veronica swallowed slightly, Duke lifted her head to look at her, “Uh-”

“Who was that kid who was staring at you?” Duke asked suddenly, not letting Veronica finish her sentence. Veronica cocked an eyebrow, leaning back in her chair. Duke sighed and said quickly, “I mean the creepy guy in the corner of the cafeteria sitting with a few kids who looked scared shitless. The guy with the brown hair with the undercut and it was flicked at the front? Wearing a trenchcoat and a flannel.”

“Oh, JD?” Veronica tilted her head, “He was staring at me?”

“Yeah. He kept biting his lip, he was honest-to-god checking you out.” Duke grunted slightly, “Then once the other two stared flirting with you he literally went red with anger.” Duke shuddered slightly, “It looked like he wanted to kill the both of them.”

“Are you sure?” Veronica said, remembering the pictures JD had shown her. Of her and Heather McNamara in the alley, lips locked and pressed against each-other. Both of their eyes shut tightly, blocking out the rest of the world. If JD had been so obsessed with her that he snapped a picture of her and Mac, could she put it past him to do something more dramatic? Especially since he had such an obsession with her?

“I’ve seen how some guys look at me when I say no,” Duke said bluntly, making Veronica’s concern only grow for the green-girl, “I know what bloodlust looks like.” Duke gulped slightly, “And he has a gun. Remember at the start of the year when he pulled it at Kurt and Ram? They may have been blanks, but if he has a gun he surely must have real bullets.”

“We’ll just watch him, and if he’s at any parties, keep him away from Heather and Heather.” Veronica couldn’t imagine what she’d do if he pulled a gun on Heather McNamara or Heather Chandler. Heather Chandler may be a mythic bitch, but she didn’t deserve death. And Heather McNamara? Surely nobody would want her dead? The worst thing she had ever said to someone was, “Yeah, go kill yourself.” Like how a child would agree when their father yelled an insult at another person.

“I’m just worried, y’know?” Heather Duke sighed slightly, “What if he pulls real bullets on the them in the caf?” Heather Duke looked Veronica dead in the eye, “What if he does something to _you_?”

“He wouldn’t-”

“What’s the phrase everybody says when they don’t get the person they love? ‘If I can’t have them’,” Duke leaned slightly, “‘Nobody can’?” Duke tilted her head slightly, “What would you do if he pulled a gun on you? Or if he trapped you in an alleyway and refused to let you leave until he had his way?”

“I’d fight-”

“Fists on gun? Good look.” Duke sneered slightly, “Just . . . be aware of him, alright?”

“I will,” Veronica gulped slightly, shrugging her shoulders in discomfort.

“Oh, here they come now.” Duke pointed out as Heather Chandler and Heather McNamara rolled up in Chandler’s pristine red-Porsche, black leather seats (which were terribly uncomfortable on a summer’s day, but Chandler made every sacrifice for fashion and trends) and all. Heather McNamara had her arms crossed and Heather Chandler rolled their eyes.

Great, they were fighting already and it had just been some simple car-ride. Fan-freaking-tastic.

“Wonder what they were arguing about.” Duke said, sarcasm obvious in her tone of voice as she looked at Veronica, waggling her eyebrows slightly. Veronica scoffed and rolled her eyes, leaning back in the seat and crossing her arms. “All you need is a pair of shades and you’re the ultimate douchebag.” Duke said casually making Veronica chuckle slightly.

“I’ll give you that one.” Veronica sniggered and Duke smirked confidently.  

Veronica watched the two other Heathers march over towards the entrance of the Steak ‘N Shake, Heather Chandler with her hands on her hips that were swaying back and forth in the most alluring way that made Veronica stare at the motions, while Heather McNamara was adorably hunched over, arms crossed and a scowl on her face.

Funny, they were complete polar opposites, yet they were in the exact same situation.

Duke took a deep breath, “Be ready for anything, alright.”

“What do you mean?”

“For all we know these two won’t let you go to the bathroom by yourself, so just,” Duke pulled on the collar of her blazer, “Just watch yourself. Don’t upset one of them or give them a reason to argue. Because trust me, they will argue over anything.” Veronica had a million and one thoughts racing through her hair as they heard the door to the Steak ‘N Shake open.

There stood Heather Chandler and Heather McNamara in all their glory.

Duke joking muttered out under her breath, “Let war commence.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yet again, I'm going to leave a (probably) empty promise and say, "I'll update it before the end of this month" but we all know me.
> 
> Also shout-out to that person who recognized me on Youtube! You were awesome! 
> 
> One more thing: Thanks to [TheDreamer240](http://archiveofourown.org/users/TheDreamer240/pseuds/TheDreamer240) for beta-reading this for me!


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